Category Archives: Poetry

With a trick of light and atmosphere, Your tailbone pressed into the two-rail fence, arms waving long afternoon shadows onto recovering winter grass. The loose chicken wire I mistook for your suitcase. I rammed your fork into the wall. Its prongs collided with the yellowing wallpaper, kicked up dust as it coiled, and peeled backContinue reading “Place / Setting”

I hope you know, the pixels cannot capture you. The screen attempts a crude retelling of dimples like M&Ms and edges like art nouveau. I hope you know how hard I’ve tried to tenderly tug your form to mine to lift your chin up to the light to hold you through the phone. One dayContinue reading “Landlocked”

I misspell words, writing them the way they sound. The other day I misspelled clouds: CLOWDS I’m sure they saw me do it the lint umbrellas overhead. They drift on, not minding what I call them.

I left the door open a crackto let a blade of the light run across the dark.But in that space lived a cutting draftwhere six feet felt so far. Green eyes, you disappearbehind panes of streaky glass.In your armor, you won’t hearthe broken echoes of our past. This is our pattern—you and I,We draw burntContinue reading “Conjunction”

The following work is a found poem made from text messages from my best friend. Each line is a different text. Punctuation is altered. Learn more about found poetry here: https://poets.org/glossary/found-poem I feel like you already know this,but I like the shape,like the green finish,in the mirror. Don’t laugh.I was 12.I went to bed atContinue reading “iMessage from Stella Moon”

Skateboard in a bag.Plastic; it is raining out.But you had to leave. I saw you today.Or your ghost, with the same hands.Tan and wanting me. Moms pick the best grapes.I don’t know how they do it.Each time, soft and sweet. Like waves on green glass,you swim in my tides of thought.Your sharp parts all fade.Continue reading “Fall Haikus”

I am a girl chasing Greek lettersclad in armor my mother gifted me:a gold chain for my collarbones,a ring that clings to my famished fingers.I am Joan of Arc with a string on my back.Pull it and I will sayYes, pleaseAndNo, thank you. Please, do not ask meany other questions.My life is pretty.My life isContinue reading “A Pedestal with a View”