Poetry

going to acapulco

holding my fate in both my hands waiting for captain waiting for orders overboard i must and will be thrown oh let me fly to my duties lord revenants of ...

Wreck

A carnival prize torn open in a field, little fuzzes everywhere. A concrete mixer on the back of a truck whirring lazily. A suboptimal play in a board game. A f...

Directed by

The monkey alarm bangs its cymbals every morning at 6:30 for two and a half minutes straight. I walk to work through a field of white picket fences and bo...

Motels

Motels are made for poets. Or maybe they’re the result of a world without them. Creviced streams collecting leaves and remnants of gas station binges. Long crum...

0% Intro APR

my new credit card arrives in the mail/I buy 3 bottles of dr teals bubble bath, the cannabis sativa edition/people laugh when I say I’ve only tried pot a few ti...

Old Millennial

I can still conjure the signature scent of college, eau de Febreeze. Several pumps of parfum overlay on the way to bacon and eggs to evaporate reeking deci...