I Am A Pothead
The workshift-over night-into the morning-until 11:24 am-just shy of noon, internal debate I had about whether or not I could reveal...
Annual Letter Home
Death was summer camp. Untied shoe laces, blue balls. Sun meant waking up. I left mud stained on her dress, leaving the mound after...
Soft Corner
Soft drink pinks the sugar tree. Some dew pepper tinkers a slow treasure. Sweat dippings cream in runway. Sweetness felt fattening. ...
Daisy Fresh Girl*
he was always trying to catch something sweet perhaps a drizzle of honey from the hive of bees that hangs from the tree in your...
Bleach Gives the Kitchen a Clean Crisp Smell
I put five drops of lavender oil Into a spray bottle To freshen the carpets And the pet fur. Crimson cheeks and foggy glasses greet...
Galaxy
Someday, I want to count how many stars are in the sky. I want to hear the stories from the constellations themselves, And I want to...
Tounge-Tied
I ate ice cream in cups on account of a tongue too short not sickly or any less lumpen than they come but sewn into the mouth as by...