I wait
for the return
of my beloved

is that you
on the

I lean
white wall

fills the well
I’ll drown in


(originally published in Pif Magazine, Spring 2019)

The Gym

Planned to hit the gym after work
to flex these treadmills of atrophied muscles,
but decided to quit my job and drink instead–
first work-free morning’s sunlight’s sharpness
in my skull. From this decision, I have hurt
my liver once, my heart twice from lack
of exercise, ate Five Guys for lunch then
missed the gym again. If we are all not
getting our week’s workouts in running
from the shadow of time, embrace it.

(originally published in Phenomenal Literature, Spring 2019)


In these plains I have been
tornado chaos the storm swirling
from shot glass. Unpredictable
system of bankruptcies this
unknowable thing can become
in a field touching down. Sky
sirens. Muck dust. Lightning
flicks a weary finger– my hand
on your spine my funnel
into sky a violin sirensong,
a tenuous tremolo.


(originally published in Poetry Pacific, Spring 2020)


I dug myself a crater
upon which to climb
out of your wedding

you said extinction
means agreeing
to not be seen

& I am not about
removing myself
from the premises
of Earth

but here are the pearly
gates & golden steps
one can walk & walk

up into clouds
of thunderbolts
skipping time

like stones upon
the black surface
of water let’s say

to next year
when I have forgotten
the empty pool

& blueberries
have fallen out
of my mouth

& bounced off
a stone wall
I could climb

to jump from


(originally published in LEVITATE, Spring 2019)


The longer I lived in my car
on the road aimless the more I
wanted to lose myself. Everywhere
was a mirror & the only way to go
was into the murk of past &
uncertainty of tomorrow. It was like
pedaling the gas for days in the mud.
Tires spinning, going nowhere.
The same me to greet at each
destination: The Grand Canyon.
Austin. Keystone Lake
in Oklahoma had drowned itself
in a Paul Klee watercolor. I
wanted its depths as my own.
The pole in the lake.
The pole in the trees.
My eyes in the lake.
My eyes in the sky.


(originally published in Plum Tree Tavern, Spring 2019)