Shuffleboard in Tampa is sliding into the DMs
of a box of saltines and eating each stack whole
if you dominate otherwise you drink leftover
juice from a friend’s friends’ wedding while
waiting for what you wanted forever on
the coast of happiness the cusp of sweet
custard overflowing with berries.
(originally published in The Waiting Room, Summer 2023)
If there is a bowl
of Twix at work,
I will act apathetic
when others are
around. Alone I will
bury open wrappers
tenfold in the trash.
Perhaps I have been
watching too much
true crime television,
or lived in the U.S.
too long– standing
over candy, ripping open
Twix after inadequate
Twix, I find the initial
bite of chocolate
caramel into biscuit
enough to make me
want the whole stick,
the whole candy bowl,
everything I can have
that’s for the taking,
like anything has ever
been entitled to me.
(originally published in PPP Ezine, Winter 2023)
I often dream of simpler times–
driving my car to a customer
with a bag full of food, and poof–
gone. Then the memory fades
in an instant. All of time
passing. Right now. Into the ether.
The clock has dropped its weary
hand a tick downward.
The other hand desperately
reaches toward the sun.
(originally published in Academy of the Heart and Mind, Spring 2023)
we walked a horseshoe through the Strip
ginger whiskey coffee whiskey honey whiskey apple whiskey
no matter what I always see this brand-new city
slamming glasses into a blue-skied table
what’s passed around we finish swiftly
while friends attempt to maintain some order
never too early to rush into a burger order
time being what it is
we consume all we can
(originally published in DREICH Magazine, Fall 2023)
First were fruits drifting down like feathers,
their sugar shells & caramel centers gooey.
When the fruits stopped fruiting, she scraped
off the tree’s gingerbread bark using flint
as a spatula. Next gone were leaves–
the sweet ones– but the branches chewed
like celery so were spat out. Feet swollen,
hands rugburn red, she climbed all
night, eating, the tree only sour leaves
& skeleton, exposed heart beating
before a death between teeth, strawberry ice
cream gushing past the mauve, ravenous moon.
(originally published in Bindweed Magazine, Summer 2021)
When you see me on screen–
with blue jacket and plastic
glasses– listening to Zach
Woods brainstorm a plan
to pivot Pied Piper into
an app that can attract
rodents– like the fairy tale,
you’d think this guy on TV
is one lucky bastard.
But you probably didn’t
notice, because you don’t
know me, and you see hundreds
of people on screen
living the dream every day.
And you can see me in season
two and the first episode
of the show, ever–
the very first scene,
during the Kid Rock
concert– on stage with a
hundred other extras, and–
at the time, I had
just moved to Los Angeles,
and the background roles
I had been cast for
resulted in me
on a projector!
My friends at home
who got used to me
no longer being able
to meet them drunk
at Highland Tavern on
Mondays were now not
completely surprised
to see me rewindable
in their living rooms.
I felt destined for great
things, marked this only
the beginning, like
everyone else chasing
dreams in the city of angels.
But all I could afford to eat
were packets of beef
ramen, boxes of blue
Kraft mac and cheese
with water instead
of milk– no butter.
Hard-boiled eggs
kept me alive
long enough
to come home
to show friends
who were getting used
to me being able to
meet them drunk at
Highland Tavern on
Mondays my favorite clip–
with blue jacket
and plastic glasses,
I listen to Zach Woods
brainstorm a plan
to pivot Pied Piper
into an app that can
attract rodents–
like the fairy tale.
(originally published in Statement Magazine, Spring 2023)
betting is fun I bet were I rich I would lose a lot
more than now losing’s not a competition though
at its core it is an apple beneath a heap of peaches
shower soap I never liked peaches have you ever
sniffed steam emanating from chicken Top Ramen
it is not clean it is not soap I dispose of everything
the flame I inhale plastic I ingest plastic waiting on
the clock to change from 12:23 to 12:24 I pour my meal
into plate-bowl snorting steam never inhale too deeply a
pot of cheap ramen I know I am saving money I know I am
betting a lot on fake economies blowing my breath onto
unpackaged carcinogens Michael once said in our apartment he
hoped to never see me eat this shit again this was years ago
soggy noodle soup coiled springs I hold in my mouth tongue
salt nothing but the salt I then lick off my chin it’s nothing just
pennies of salt I will be hungry again soon so why must I savor
every writhing U at bowl’s bottom like each bite will be my last
(originally published in Count Seeds With Me [Ethel Zine & Micro-Press], Spring, 2022)
We made Arrested Development-esque chicken imitations
at the restaurant– bakawk, cheep-cheep, wakka wakka–
being young, I thought that was the language of love.
We always laughed across the chasm of the room
when we shut shop, squeezing soap rags into heart buckets,
wiping fresh clear streaks on mahogany tables. I vacuumed
pita crumbs and invisible dust, emptied bags thinking,
perhaps, I was on the verge of vanquishing loneliness,
that I was sprinkling zaatar on a plate of foggy shish
tawook, a taste you might return to.
(originally published in Vagabond City Lit, Spring 2023)
You tell me it doesn’t matter
how much mercury
you consume, as long
as the pleasure is worth it.
One day, you say, we’ll buy
sticky rice and salmon, dirty
our hands in the sink
then soap them– we’ll
remove the dead fish
scent from our skin.
(originally published in U-RIGHTS Magazine, Fall 2020)
Cramped in that silver
nook by the kitchen
was how not to know me.
The panini-maker pressed
pitas onto various vegetables
that were consumed and
capitalized. Chickpeas
churning in the high-
grade processor (with
special red spice).
Carrots in the juicer,
bananas in the blender,
hearts on dark trays headed
to tables by the window
overlooking the snow-
plowed parking lot. I dropped
wine glasses all week
and would you agree
it was too much when
the army came in
to sweep glass
off the floor?
(originally published in Stick Figure Poetry Quarterly, Spring 2023)