poem: stay-at-home woman

do you remember the red telephone, sitting like a silent cat, renovating the hall with its small plastic face? i watched you leave, the first day, and then i called my mother. the baby was twisting like an almond, a sliver in my ocean-split stomach; i put my hands over my mouth so she wouldn’t…

poem: those people are like art, dead but beautiful

little girl, in the red skirt, in the impressionist painting outside my window: the sky is thick with cocoa beans, the clouds are wild.   her mother picks at the flower-dust in her hair. they have halos, they are goddesses spun out in starry nights, relics from when the world was young and girls waited…

poem: highschool is over (cheers to this)

i am spinning in a blue dress and to first follow him i must be all of myself, not for the matriarchy but for my small ascendence into what He envisioned. this is not high school: strangers will smile at you, later, i promise. Also, listen: the depression and the choas will not go away…

poem: this will probably offend you (i’m not sorry)

i would be brilliant at being victorian, even as i would hate it but at least then the war cries of women (western, privileged women) would make sense. as it is, i am the artist looking stupidly (they say) to the wrong political direction and for me life comes before a maligned humanist choice. new…

poem: dear 2018

shall i tell you of my womanhood and the unpopular things that leave me sitting alone at parties, the 1960's splashed angrily in my face, and my hands now wet with mascara tears. but i am still not going to graduate school and i still don't want my entire life boxed into a career. i…