Poetry

A Thing

O—to be as hated as the mall, as invasive species. Stunned, I call 911. Or as loved. A grief vacation. That’s not a thing. A brassy sleep. Or as cov...

Single Serve

There are no butterflies disguised within your plastic coffee cocoons. I, too, am a victim of addiction— I find your needle so convenient. Your single b...

Huh?

I have a hard time with milky tennis shoes and photographs of champagne. The void insisting it is not a void. Especially when I’ve tasted plaque and evict...

Dermatitis

Just like I lick my wounds I have been licking my pink Himalayan salt lamp praying for ions to heal me I know I shouldn’t swallow the industrial grease wi...

Shopping for God

This could be my last magic trick - choosing a wardrobe for God from the shit human minds alone could create, Do we really need a professional shopper to pr...

Witchcraft

You are the voice of Stevie Nicks, and I am Lindsey Buckingham’s guitar chords strumming Rhiannon out of the coffin in your ribcage. Copper wire luring Sale...

Superstition

I bought a book of poetry titled depression is a thunderstorm and i am a scared dog and I wanted to revise it, change ‘depression’ to ‘life’. I think about...