Posts
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Thunder and the Boat
we're lying,
resplendent
as corpses
on the deck
of our boat,
staring into
the folds of
the universe's
moth-eaten -
Love Poem
I want to write a love poem to a volcano,
but that would involve learning to love God
and I’m not quite ready to make peace
with the war yet. I’m still fighting, still kissing, -
Existentialism
cut the string, swallow the sea, burn the boat.
I never wanted to chronicle the apocalypse.
Easter, Christ rose from the dead like a fresh
loaf of bread. the East had it right, communion -
An Unraveling
I recently came across a translation of Euripedes’s Medea by David Kocas. It felt more like an encounter really, like I'd come across Medea herself: an icon in a barren church, a window into God’s abandoned feminine half, a woman burning with grief. -
The Bus
inch worms are portals,
this one is full of golden light,
a sour smell, and a hum,
humming louder than a hive.
I climbed inside, listened
to it creak as it folded forward, -
Prayer Wheel or Capitol Hill Autonomous Zone
At the beginning of December, I found myself on Capitol Hill for a poetry reading. I had some time to spare, so I walked around the neighborhood’s green-space, Cal Anderson Park.
Loves
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'I am' Poem
When my teachers want to celebrate diversity they try to get us to write 'I am' and 'Where I'm From' poems. This is not something I oppose, but something is lost in the prompting. For them I write the easy apple cider explanations. For you?
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summery/autumnal
summer's like / skips on a record player, pink and beat up by two moving vans and two generations of children who danced to the Bee Gees on / rugs that aren't there anymore / i have successfully wasted three mon
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In what world would I ever know my Grandmother
How can it be that I cannot exist without and with her
Sometimes I like to imagine we have the same eyes, brown with glints of green and yellow, like a sprouting garden in spring.
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A Single Sentence Letter to Our Daughters
i think i know why aliens haven't visited us. they're
definitely watching with rapt attention, waiting
to see how we climb the highest wall
humanity built for ourselves in the past
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hurting
somewhere a lantern burns in the woods.
somewhere a cold blind man suffers.
they will never meet.
