Chin on window, I still somehow lost
myself in the crowd: the subway
left me here, at my draped destination. Yet
street guitars and strangers’ chatter echo
in the underground, eardrums thrumming through
this maze of machines: ticket-takers, escalators.
Half-shell, half-mind, I ascend into the grid
of civilization: deadened lego towers, blind
in the clouds, airplanes wending through
faint chemical composition quarter-notes.
(originally published in Pif Magazine, Summer 2019)
on your way from Los Angeles
to New York, I’ll tell you
there’s nothing to do here but drink
can you see our friendship
gripping skeleton bottles?
before we stumbled into every hazy bubble
of unfilled expectations
we called L.A. city by its name
then other cities called our names
like somewhere in this world
(originally published in Red Fez, Winter 2017)
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)