(originally published in The Chaffey Review – Volume XIII)
tinsel rust-iron sword
on the tip of your nose
down in the basement
familiar drumbeats
pit-pit-patter on steel-
rimmed heads, rhythmic
raindrops tapping brass
on coarsely-gilded hearts
(originally published in White Stag – Volume II, Issue I, April 2015)
passed like a wavering wristwatch.
teeth quietly chattered.
the spider-leg-frizzy occiput.
raw morning shampoo. like an apple.
or butterflies. blunt sides of pins.
the polyester blanket soaked
from evening vinegar.
collected like dust.
(originally published in Cosmonauts Avenue – Spring 2015)
wind like a taiko
along the crown of palm
I shiver with the window
(originally published in Vine Leaves Literary Journal, Issue #14)
On bridges I wait for the crash;
below, for the crumble.
With slick-ice roads in the
dead of winter
by the open canal,
in my mind I watch my car slide
off the road, into water.
Inconsequential
even if I knew how to swim.
She taught me– or tried to, at least.
She told me to find
my “inner mermaid”–
like a man.
And to fill my lungs like balloons
with meaningless, throwaway air–
which I did, to a fault.
(originally published in The Literary Commune – Issue #4, April 2015)
the not-even-mine salt-and-pepper pup
domesticates me
the longer i hang
the more chameleon my intentions
the smell of sweat from rain-pawed feet
i wave yesterday’s socks
like american flags
i say, speak english –
even though i do not understand
(originally published in White Stag – Volume II, Issue I)
my mouth & cigarette smoke
like chewed lipstick.
faces clung with intertwined tongue
sweat, turtle. the lotioned hand.
grip now. hold.
(originally published in Vine Leaves Literary Journal – Issue #14)