for Nour No, don’t take that one! that sweet sweet sweet ripe one so delectable that one, all flesh and red and tenderness, I’ve been...

Screeches break the glare of day: Crows scramble; he is on his way. Over the roofs the dragon sweeps (Fuselage of legs, span prehistoric)...

Basic Beach sandwiches thrown together from what’s in the car “It’s fairly basic,” she says an excuse of sorts And yes, back in the...

What if I stayed up as late as I wanted to every night and slept in as late as I wanted to each morning. What if I wrote an eco-novella...

upwards i spent the day untying knots and then reweaving them, yellow on yellow on yellow, telling a story between my fingers picked out...

Ten Gibraltar monkeys shoved their way into the busy cafe at the top of the Rock where the cable car stops. The sliding window...

Work Ethic is about capitalism and suicide. My pieces often focus on mental illness. Read with care. WORK ETHIC My mother will tell me...

ghosted “You all live once,” the app screamed, like Munch. Filled bodies, slick and brickly on the outside, hardened by days of burbled...

Conception Things got too hot, you couldn’t stop your dams from breaking. Your swollen rivers, thick and thawed washed over me in white...

had this addiction, was shooting pure gold into washed-out veins while i kissed his wife in the back seat, and he kept driving down the...

There is the grind of grief and there is also the rising. Yes he had a mother too, as everyone does. What can it mean to have a mother,...

So masculine, I could stare at you all evening. Rude me - probably because I missed seeing you the past 32 years. I gave up straight men...

I hate that I am kind. I get entangled every year in a new game of a new hunter. People weave dulcet tales to lure me into their...

On Midlife: A Self-Portrait A new gulley, a deep, unbending arroyo runs alongside what has always been, an expected line in an unmapped...

Sustainable eating eggshells for calcium – crushed to mush, watered down is this the future, we pray for? wanting not to waste as waste...

Hunting boots all wet and muddy, Following the trail, most bloody, Found some tracks, now stop and study. There’s my quarry, freshly...

From one heap to another after Brian Eno In the spring, I scatter normal instruments in secret locations. The road home is formless,...

THE DAY The day his doctor told my father he shouldn't drive anymore there were suddenly so many errands to run. I ran into the mailbox,...

)))wind unravels fingers— tones pores which gasp as sudden cold sneaks up on you like an icicle down your back, between your breasts...