The Traveller
photograph by Matt Mooney White lines on cement and mirrors, cars chase, miles drown, and i exude a brittle warmth. like a smoky bon...
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When It Blizzard in May
arteries span out, tiny fingers grasping for life screens show me your face, a blurry monotone of the past. crevasses in trees cradle my...
I'm Leaving
Lazy eyes snaking across empty screens, you pull your weight around. She mumbles, hoping you turn around. Nothing but stillness catches...
Deer Mountain
Cradle of guitar strums, rib cages jutted like the fingers on strings, deep breaths inside hollowed trees, a remembrance of quiet deer,...
Coming to Terms with Sobriety
photograph by Matt Mooney My words seem looser, Harder to hold. Like grainy sand that slides between your fingers. You lay down to feel...
A Shelter without Edges
photograph by Matt Mooney Curled fists, I resort to baby talk. it’ll be okay. it’ll be okay. I don’t swat at bees, anymore. Ever since...
Spring Air
Particles, or fragments, settle inside my chest. The wind knocks my door as if I’m expecting someone. Invisible loneliness, I’ve heard...
Raggedy Ann
You wanted to kiss her, you wanted to make love to her. But all you ever got was a puppet, waiting to be filled. She fell in love with...
This is a Political Poem
Windows and screens peer into homes, webs of worlds into the unknown children seeing circuses filled with fat, white men, we eat the pigs...
Transitional Shame
My name is not as strong as yours. You taunt my fragility. A quiet sunset dips into creation, Tugging on my hair, you whisper, Come here....
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