I can’t talk about money I have none
I am green in love in the black in life
the debt of my ancestors I am
someone’s deficient ancestor
though my family is dying
one at a time deeper
into ground and deeper into soil
the sound of my sister
sobbing though she can’t be here
at the funeral she would if
she could
there’s always next time
(originally published in Ariel Chart, Winter 2021)
here’s your evergreen nowhere blue sky eyewhites your
lust for your best life I mean here is the reason sister
to run into you at North Market its coffee shop
years after hopscotch your palm tree blood
underneath it sister the last time we stayed up past
4 AM watching nature documentaries searching
for birds it was a metaphor at the time flying
out each other’s eyes how we’d be wordless
we’re wordless
(originally published in Reservoir, Summer 2018)
the gorge is endless & insatiable
there is a river, then many mouths
& there is your mother
in the next room cooking soup
& there is a mother
on screen bent over stovetop
with stepson rocking back
& forth into hunger
& now spoons clank
on plate before dinner
& your privacy settings–
a closed door
& now your father
home from work
& now the stepfather
makes his daughter behave
& your sister
walks in off the bus
& now the step-sister
removes the mushroom of her skirt
taking her brother by the name
of their familiar
revelation
which is all relative
to the mold of a home
all mildew & dust
spiderweb & tangle
& turn of doorknob
to walk years
through thin hallways
of broken light
fixtures & coughs
to sit in the dining room
all together & eat
years of steaming
garlic, basil, tomato,
salt
(originally published in The Cerurove, Fall 2017)