in my car
dead
white sunlight
shines off the shield
window waterstains
obscure the world gray
not flicking
the turn signal
left
or right won’t matter
a crash to a ghost
is whiplash
(originally published in G*MOB, Spring 2022)
suburbs
Anywhere, USA
11PM and the street is bleak
in this unseasonably cool May
these parking lots are vast
national parks of the suburbs
their Joshua tree streetlights
ubiquitous luminescence
a steady stream of street cars
these wild intractable headlamp
eyes they know where they’re going
that’s what makes it sad everywhere
McDonald’s flags waving half-mast
(originally published in The Tau, Summer 2018)
Public Urination
I manifest prayer
into the unspoken covenant of suburbia,
the gravel pockmarked by drought,
by time, trickling time. . .
the desert calls its rare waters oasis– so,
purge the monstrous depths of your chosen gorge,
knives outwardly aimed
at some balloon’s held breath–
(originally published in Pouch, Spring 2016)