This world you teach me is velvet
mice in your palm, on the carpet,
in my teeth, repeat. And the silver
crinkle ball that shines purple in sun
light that I cannot stop batting across
the floor. I sometimes push it into
that unreachable darkness underneath
the couch downstairs. DQ told me there
once was a cat who left and never
returned, and she thinks about him
constantly, expecting him each entrance
of outside light, and I tell her no, there’s only
me and you, and I run around the house,
seeking his faint traces. And she tells me of days–
long, unimaginable days– when no one is around
and you just have to bide your time and wait.
It seems so lonely. I run to her and
she screams and retreats into the Cavern of
Bags. I follow her in too deep. Please
tell me you will always be around.
I need someone here to complete
such important work, this
drive inside that bursts and blooms
its way across the corners
of these rooms I’m learning,
this love I newly navigate far
from small, stuffed cages
I used to think
was the world
until I met the space
within your affection,
a bond of greater
boundlessness.
(originally published in Unlikely Stories Mark V, Winter 2023)
cute
Alive
Show a baby grass
for the first time
yes
there will be more of that
(originally published in SAND, Spring 2023)
An Extinct Fish Watches an Episode of Planet Earth
To Paige (From Jack)
no one else spell w – a –
l – k jus ta invigarate
our senses & tendons
jus me & u, ta be outside
& sniff da wine in roses, .
when ya dance arms a whirlwind i dont speak
cuz i kno a days come we both dancin
& howlin, listen da moon whisprin secrets
& i dont want ya palms leave my full belly
da way da sun snatch ya gone in mornins.
dont want u to wake : it mean some
time u stay , other time da wooden gate
outside squeak & take u where my nose
cant find u, , sometime fa days . i chew
on bones u gave til my tongue become
a skeleton thirstin . , i wait fa blue sky
ta stop ringin da sun , when da day turn
gray , when u somehow materalize ..
dats when i have u : darkness : u sleepin
on ya bed a bleach & purple catmint .
i pray da bright awful requiem dont
replay– when u rise i wonder if
today u turn ta harmony , , or void
& how long . but
wid u beside me ,
no need ta wonder .–
u,, protected , & me ,
nose fulla ya petals ,
da sauvignon in roses .
(originally published in Sediments Literary-Arts Journal, Autumn 2016)
At the Mar Vista Public Library
the ponytail blonde in the banana sweater & black leggings
floats in some fiction world she belongs in
then asks the librarian a question I cannot hear
she shrugs when she speaks
(reluctant windmill)
she figure-skates her slow, shelved glissando
(fantasia of the no-talking zone)
I am writing this poem when
she shoots past my table
with a green hardcover book–
I did not catch the title
or ask for her name
so I am left with
only my words:
anxieties
I find harder
& harder to
decipher
every
day
(originally published in Viewfinder Literary Magazine, Summer 2016)