Abundance
Running out of room
That’s what everyone’s doing these days
Cities swamp into the countryside
and people move boxes into empty rooms
All Entries
Throat
Your type of butterfly I could never quite swallow
It’d get stuck in my throat
Trapped halfway between rejection and being true
Sometimes I wish I could fit my arm down my esophagus
Artist’s Prayer
Hold onto your tears like Grandma’s jewelry
Hang them on your wall with pushpins
so you have to face them every morning
Get drunk on your trauma
Show Me Your Teeth
I want to see you laugh
Your joy too great to only resonate inside your head
Exploding out like a firework
Your grin will pop like Prosecco
Tetherball
Today I’m a tetherball
Swinging around the sun
Vibrant in the morning light
Just a river on a run.
Anchor Up
Do you remember that guy?
The one that vanished some over the counter Sunday?
He was mostly cheekbones
with Harry Potter frames resting on top
Single-Use Soil
Every faucet drips in this house
and usually, our fruit goes bad before we ever miss it
No such thing more American than a squishy apple
We’re not criminal
Summer Zin
He’s like a California red
or a tangerine sunset
one where it looks like you could just walk off into the sky.
He’s fresh like sheets still entangled in the weaver’s fingers
Stranger
That fur coat stumbling through produce
Face like a reused grocery bag
Her days are like freeing a watercolor pallet in a bathtub
Her backpack is full of photos of
My Fortress
The castle gates are closed again
It only took one year
We’ve bound up every window shut
And dumped out all the beer
Our feathers hang up on a wall