poem: molly

australian shepherd, destroyer of worlds & (stuffed) lambs little sentinel, keeping watch over the sun-bent deckwith her ears pressed back. the whole of the world isbehind her — myself, typing. my sisters painting and my mother, hanging the blue-whorled swedish plates. all of us, her little women. she was bornin larger skies — hung over the… Continue reading poem: molly

poem: oxbridge

he came from his side of the bed: whiteshirt, white sweater, whitetrousers with the cresses pressed in, as if he was a gothic romantic caricature of the fine, last old age, aging likeyoung wine, the dorian grey bright and apparent andhelium-esque on his face, he took my thinwhite hands inside his own,unworked, thin hands --… Continue reading poem: oxbridge

poem: western montana

my mother birthed me into stranger places -- the mountains shornand shot up, as if Ithere, was one of them: too-big blue sky fit like a salt-block into my open mouth, deer- and oxen-child. if I had been born into a city, the masturbatory smoke andskyscrapers cut up around me, think -- what a little… Continue reading poem: western montana

poem: letter to myself

the only thing I could imagine piercing me todayis the long cat-vomit pink, stretch, of sky -- and after driving home, the awareness of the earth that would notaccept or come into me, the places I will not go because they are outside, and I cannot? cannot! leave this bedroom, the walls bent in and… Continue reading poem: letter to myself

poem: they say, men fall off the bottom curve of the earth

he bit into her — in long, sloping strides, and theirAfter was like the fall of Troy, her dress caulking down to herankles in the same violet waves, as she had seen, in the leavingof the wooden places she called Now, and now in his comingbetween her, the ships rising and firing and not ever,… Continue reading poem: they say, men fall off the bottom curve of the earth

poem: writing camilla

he slept on the desk, in half-glacier grandsnow sweaters, the pine trees and cardinal birds, their throatsbright and ready! red, sloping down to his hands --big and masculine, and knotted up fromwriting her, sad long letters; when the day swept to a small close, the trees leaning in, snow falling off and conjoining; he slept… Continue reading poem: writing camilla

poem: I could die? a footnote?

or: "aesthetic irl"thirty day poetry challengeday 09– ‘goals‘ the plead tweed coats, manufactured in England or Bangladesh, and ink-on-fingers, cigarettes. leaves Rattling againstthe gothic, heavy windows because what else? /how do I describe James Joyceand Virginia Wolf: like readingemotions. reading the old novels, in cafes(because what else?); the middle-class, they kept writingabout God, now we… Continue reading poem: I could die? a footnote?

poem: my charger

thirty day poetry challengeday 06– ‘my charger‘ was sometimes a wattpad boy (and I mean that ironically and also unironically) -- who wanted to go to Heaven nowrather than later, because it seemed betterthan whatever else; I don't know if that really counts as wanting to kill myself, he said; but I was listing, the… Continue reading poem: my charger

poem: cold war in the fridge and reheated

thirty day poetry challengeday 05– ‘leftovers‘ am I supposed to relate to the third-child motherstanding on the porch with her vaginaon the flagpole and a joint fuckedinto her mouth like a second-smile, the smokesagging through her -- she is Americanmyth; at least during the Depressionshe probably believed in God and sold her childrenwith some feeling,… Continue reading poem: cold war in the fridge and reheated

poem: my father said he was going to the store, we needed milk

thirty day poetry challengeday 04– ‘buy milk‘ I broke down, like my father's car, which had been breaking down again and again, like my fatheralways broke down -- in the parking lotor the pharmacy queue -- where his latestprescription sat whore-ishly orange;he prized them like my mother's tits or my grandfather's slaps or my own… Continue reading poem: my father said he was going to the store, we needed milk