Poetry

Poetry |

“Origin Story,” “Eve” & “To life”

“maybe that’s why // you bloomed in all the wrong ways. you know / the kind of girl you were, the crow growls. // the kind to swallow a rotten apple whole.”

Poetry |

“Sunk Cost Fallacy” & “Winter the Rain”

“… you suffer without me, / who, sleeveless in the heat / of July’s last morning, / will be squeezing plums / in produce when your eldest / calls to say, “Dad’s / taking his last breath.”

Poetry |

“Jericho, Oxford” & “Ektopia”

“… we settled in the end for the pure girl face / that I turned to consider the street / down which the boy and the men had gone / in search of bookshops and better drugs.”

Poetry |

“Have You Been Watching the News?”

“Every time I look at the dog, I remember she is going to die. / Sometimes I cry while picking her shit up from the yard with a plastic claw. / Next week she will turn one.”

Poetry |

“Juvenilia”

“She found the bird beneath the tree. It was a kinglet, / ruby-crowned, a juvenile. Stiffened by the time it took / to find it, fledging dropped from the numbered nest.”

Poetry |

“Souvenir From the Gone World”

“I asked the address / of his childhood home // and was told, It’s on Second Avenue — / You go down a little hill, / then half way up a hill …”

Poetry |

“By Rote”

“An oak tag string of ABCs   / Block style hangs above the blackboard.  / Chalk dust tinges the letters of the law.  / Diligently, a small girl copies …”

Poetry |

“Felled Oak”

“For you, an eyesore, for me, an object / of light and form dignified by age // and trust, weathered or beaten, but there — / as if it would have reason to stay, // as if I had cause to see it as lovely.”