Category: Poetry

I love you where yellow bends.

Instead of wallowing // in animal glory like all the world’s a watering hole, / the subject has instead learned to feel alone 

too many, we could not eat them / skins fragile then, fermentation exquisite

While the boys / swing and jump, she skips stones, / noticing the brief buoyancy / before each is sucked back into the river.

I am the maid by the window watching you / speak it out, tongue to tongue, black water / wetting the carpet, the cells, the Klimt, me

when I learned dogs smell in stereo / I closed my eyes and imagined how

Here was the wind, here was the body; here was the sheet, its minute chloroform, its sack of Milwaukee’s Best passed around

Would they let her watch the gold dissolve? / She imagined the circle of ever after writhing / in the heat of her anger.