sometimes to sneeze is
a wave crashing onto
a piano at the top
of a staircase
and the force
of rejection
is but a small
concerto
with fins
(originally published in WordCity Literary Journal, Spring 2023)
Short
For You the Invading Weeds
moss spirit water
air with freshness
unknowing us
capable I understood
how much to lose
beside leaves
wilting off
trees onto grass
to grow anew
(originally published in Ginosko Literary Journal, Summer 2021)
Purple Paint
on your bed was revelation a coming
to know purple paint with third-floor
view the pines and run-down houses all
strangers because we too once only
knew each other in name then your cat
nuzzled nose against my legflesh and we
sipped on beers we left on the nightstand
to finish later when the last bitter note
lingered on our tongues
(originally published in Academy of the Heart and Mind, Spring 2023)
Elegy
I have gambled
away the guts to
admit what is
lost– all time
is temporary
& money the life
raft. I see
your bet I raise
you I will you
from the dead
(originally published in DoubleSpeak Magazine, Spring 2023)
Think Positive Thoughts at Plants
after a while a magic occurs
blooming splashes the windowsill
creates a rainbow to heal what ails
the will its green misery sprouted
along peach-painted walls its
roots will take hold turn wilted
petal into mast on a boat of dirt
(originally published in CommuterLit, Winter 2021)
all my art
trying to keep you out of my mind in my room with the
locked door this too will wash away colors sacred I’d
dip my fingers in hiding holy underneath I promised
to take your cracked heart in mine I am not removed
from broken foundation the columns & wild dark
above all my art I just want you in my arms
(originally published in Alternate Route, Spring 2023)
Poppy
everywhere on the bagel, poppies
in the out of focus fields, poppies
the feeds scroll full of puppies
the home, poppies
what can you say about fireworks
has already exploded
in mouth in blood
we buds. we bud.
grandpa was a farmer
he tended to his poppies
white and wild wind
the wind. white and wild
(originally published in As It Ought To Be Magazine, Spring 2023 – nominated for a Pushcart Prize)
Tragedy Came Later. For Now– A Good Moment.
California, 2014, in her brother’s
bed, we could have went home
but didn’t.
Instead, we cuddled and slept
in only underwear.
I woke up alone
to find her on the couch.
We nuzzled our faces before
finally walking into the sun–
already dripping wax,
feeding desert flowers
in its best attempt
to stave the rain.
(originally published in Euphemism, Fall 2021)
First Date Triptych
1.
by the window
your headlights
in the driveway
2.
behind
the blinds
3.
from
inside
this
blanket
(originally published in Fleas on the Dog, Summer 2020)
Tootsie Rolls
my body was destroyed
to confuse the witness
red feathers fell
in dust and dirt
I am not compatible with the moon
I kiss my mouth
illness has become a tooth
return to the deep pit
black in its whole
(originally published in Setu, Summer 2020)