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A Bottom Feeder Reflects
The younger man remembered wooden desks (The graffiti was more creative— you could at least understand it), the older man went further into the past, as though he were an Enheduanna channeling some...
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No Relation
No relation, she says, tossing off an assumption that years and travels would lead to ample coverage of names. But the reputation feels ill-gotten, now that time has intervened as a buffer between...
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Swallow
The girl is starting to play guitar, singing, then stopping, saying shit, fuck, playing, stopping, one fast wail, your heart is breaking and willing her to keep playing and then she does and doesn’t...
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Learning to Remember You: Saturday Afternoons, SE10
No hand-written letters for you on the front door’s public mat. To welcome me you frame the archway, one arm stretched, half in jest. You twist the metal Yale. Lock us in. The key’s still in the low...
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The Discus Thrower
Look at him, in this photograph on the bookshelf, tucked behind a copy of Wuthering Heights, his smile broad, shoulders wide, fists grasp proud, a fishing pole. His skin so tan, his face tanner, he is...
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“Aftertaste” and “How Much Can One Person Say To Another”
Aftertaste Wake in his wake, the shape of his absence, a weight pressing into your back. Wake soft-boned, dry-throated, one hand pressed between your thighs. Mouth his name over and over: an exercise...
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“Traffic School” and “This Poem Contains No Active Threats”
Traffic School The woman with beautiful breasts and a jarfull of eyeballs sat on my left. I live in L.A., so I’m used to body parts in vitro, but in this case the eyeballs were squirming around. The...
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Little Teeth
The chair began to grow teeth. They were little children’s teeth. They were too little to snack on those who rested on the chair. The teeth grew everywhere. The cupboard grew teeth on the inside and...
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“Folkloric Wisdom and other Birds of Prey” and “The Negative Hand & the Pool...
Folkloric Wisdom and other Birds of Prey Girls always got advice to give each other like clean the hair out of your brush or you’ll get lice, light pink doesn’t go so good with dark pink, always carry...
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Song for You Before You Go
This is serious. I’m afraid I no longer know how to be quiet but, if you want love, we’ll make it. All the things we press against are walls but the bougainvillea is so lush we might forget about the...
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Our Mothers Say Baby –
- like we could step outside and pluck one from the sky. It was different at 17 pregnancy test propped on the toilet paper waiting in a mall bathroom with that boyfriend outside shaking like a rabbit...
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“Palimpsest” and “Roadkill”
Palimpsest The garbage men have not yet come, but all of your refuse is assembled at the curb. Look, there are the fragments that once resembled a whole, a pastiche of our wreckage. I have poured out...
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From Under the Porch a Mad Dog Runs
At 16, I picture Mother Nature with fangs and cruel eyes. Like my faith, Grace has gone mad, her pups all dead. Rabidly she fled sunlight and water into crawlspace. In fits the beagle gnaws the dark,...
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