Category: Poetry

  • Mother’s Child

    , ,

    Are you okIt must be hard on youPouring the ashes for two But I am my mother’smother’s mother’s childBearing the weight is the proof That my love goes as far as the moonAnd If I’m dying I’ll die like a coon dogGo out with style and graceOr die from the grief of aLoss of the…

  • Stop it, now you’re just trying to make you cry

    undoing nothing, memories from midnight to 4am, sunshine through golden hair, out of the tree and into the birthday cake, sing psalms to a frightened child, touch the softest part of your hand to his brow; stop it, now you’re just trying to make you cry.

  • I’ll take the house fire, please

    ,

    grip the leftover skin and pull, separate the tongue with doubt and bite, blood sugar in the gaps of teeth, swish with ocean brine, disrupt the despair with a careful smile, will not do anything without a drug of choice, otherwise four blank walls anticipating a house fire.