You marry a Republican– hard not to judge
though I am trying, buoyant at my soft seat,
fingers hovering over a litany of criticisms–
my tongue is held, not fully unfurled onto
my wooden desk. My entirety disappointed
in my restraint while you merge into a beast,
boldly becoming a citizen I do not recognize.
(originally published in Evening Street Review, Summer 2022)
wasn’t that how life
was supposed to go?
ah, college followed
the whims of fun.
it turns out I stayed out
too late in its shadow
and now capitalism
is the only one
who wants me to follow.
he says
you’re thirty now
so have some drinks
and pizza
if you want
dab the grease
with a napkin first
but don’t limit
yourself to one
(originally published in children, churches, and daddies, Fall 2019)
Worth inextricably tied to the throttle
I am unable to press forever and
ever, amen, where to lie
down and get some rest? Hallelujah,
livin’ by the bottle without drinking
anything alcoholic, not tonight
at least, not before the long drive
to work, paved highways, praise,
hell on the range is to pay
all your bills at once
and wait a month.
(originally published in Los Angeles Review of Los Angeles, Summer 2022)
You’re going to have it all
but not today, Taurus.
The swarming suits
will suffocate you;
love won’t feel like it exists.
This trend will grind you
down to bones but you
will bounce out of bed
tomorrow to grind
at work. Open your mouth
a little more than usual
to let more air
into your life.
(originally published in The Brasilia Review, Spring 2020)
I had to refuse your hotel room, middle of the infinite
August evening. I was new in a city of ever-rising water
and you came to me, promising a raft. I couldn’t forget
finding the stars with you beyond all this light pollution
as we floated on our backs in your leased pool. When
you told me you were lost, too, I didn’t think you meant
you’d say no to your forever lover in the fog on a beach
in New Hampshire. I thought we’d wait much longer.
(originally published in Monterey Poetry Review, Summer 2020)