for John Chir The last woman at your empty grave is grounding rosaries into the wind, is stitching a history onto rice paper leaves, is repeating your name and repeating your name, is waiting for an echo. The last woman at your empty grave is interviewing the dark, is carving memories between falling stars, is […]


I know how to disappear. I learned it from my mother who learned it from her mother and my great grandmother who went poof! one night right in the middle of dinner. After that, my grandmother went, in between white sheets hanging on a line in the yard, poof! Then my mother as she held […]

Watching Episodes of ‘I Shouldn’t Be Alive’ in Reverse

We like tears sucked into ducts, the way waterfalls look running upwards. Viewed in reverse the sea ejaculates helicopters and lightning. Bears appear with limbs in loose jaws, healing hikers and tidying campsites. A ribcage coughs up buckshot. The mountain inhales its shelf of snow. We like the hour condensed, flares asleep in their nests, […]