Below
He’s figured it out. The only way out is to swim, to break water, to surface. It is a long way up, that is how far we have drowned.
“The Sound of Roots” and other poems
We come from the mountains, we have wolf / in our blood, we have pinebarb.
If I were any more ambidextrous I’d slap my own ass left handed • Ain’t dere no more
Make it out to my sense of melodrama or maybe just my consistent need for I think it's called attention?
“In the beginning I am not your body.” and other poems
& so I hear / in the beginning I am not / 12 & I hear hips swinging a wide bridge / a chorus swelling in the bass / of my chest & I break
Female While in Mexico
Hers is a country of dead people. All those graves scattered over the hill, the white crosses, the angels with their hands on their chests, the pinwheels that spin over children’s graves.
Outline of What I Want to Say to My Sister
On the phone, you tell me you were frozen, then brought back to life. The freezing shrunk you and stretched you, and you became ugly.
What do you know about one-night stands?
You will be twenty or twenty-one or twenty-two, no younger than nineteen, no older than twenty-four.
The Enigma
I was looking for Samuel Bernstein’s novel, Lulu, at The Strand, a giant stack of books teetering in the crook of my right arm.
Plainclothes Agenda
My interdisciplinary art practice evolved from drawings I made while sharing open and public spaces with others.
GBU – 43/B Massive Ordnance Air Blast (aka ‘mother of all bombs’) • Terror Collage
I fall into the mountain side; I burn in / to the twisting serpent of chambers / hidden there. I am wild for the underlength / of tunnels and beautiful men who run like blood.
Art in the space of social issues
