Poem: ninety caret glare

ninety caret glare running errant errands heels fall hard on every stair undisparaged parage travel in a figure eight aimless as my hair is teasing layers till I sate my appetite for Paris magnifying mirror in my smallest pocket bleeding rivulets, but I won’t admit it gunmetal glitter, dark gray as my locket impatient with … Continue reading Poem: ninety caret glare


Virgin Matrimony 

Today I'm sharing my first "serious" poem. I wrote it when I was 14, maybe 13. "What makes a poem 'serious,'" you ask? Well, it depends on the person. I suppose any real poem takes meter and rhythm into account, as anything else would be prose with randomly-occurring line breaks. I wasn't particularly learned in … Continue reading Virgin Matrimony 

Poem: I was born today three-hundred years from now

I was born today three-hundred years from now of an atom and an eon on the verge of collapse one triplet of three surviving, thriving sperm a baby spread beef-like, dripping juicy and fresh, unappetizing arranged as part of three on white paper hospital sheets crinkling our arrival like so many royal trumpets blasting   … Continue reading Poem: I was born today three-hundred years from now

Poem: the opening line exploded

the opening line exploded when the curtains drew open and each lip of the unlikely actress parted ways her voice shot like sparks, zapped along under-stage wiring and microphones and reached the audience, whose dresses and suits caught fire. the sound was sickeningly girlish yet frighteningly hoarse and each aristocrat, as they fanned off their … Continue reading Poem: the opening line exploded

Poem: Mary Anne

This poem was originally published in Breadcrumb Scabs. Mary Anne, you are my favorite lover you read from your book of poems, your poison thick as honey and as hard to swallow as bile and after reading a linguistic murder weapon sick enough to rival Plath and kill her twice you look up at me … Continue reading Poem: Mary Anne