Wake

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…

Legacy

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…

Adore Delano

Adore Delano performing at Arena Stage in Washington DC, June 2015.

The One-Way Swing

The one-way swing looked like any other. That was half the problem. Not one batted eye until the children started disappearing. We shook down the alley cats first, as they see everything. The calicos were uncooperative, but the solids all suggested the witch. We stopped inviting her to barbeques, not wanting to be too harsh…

After Hours

I watched the peaks of your egg-carton spine writhe against the loose blue hospital knot at your neck where the cotton fell away after everyone else had gone. I pressed my purpled feet, with yours, against that ancient wooden bed frame. Above us, in muted ecstasy the history channel’s Indian women danced. I envied their…

Not in a Ha-Ha Way

If you wake up late for your job at the mill screaming until you wake the house, tell my sister that you need your time card need your hard hat, need the number of that electrician and then next week you are in Korea, having downed your plane and are screaming about bananas, seeing them…

Why You Haven’t Seen Me in Awhile

After you left, I crawled deep under my bed down the hidden cavern to where I keep my devious contraptions. Unscrewing a stalactite, I unearthed the secret photographs I’d taken with my eye machine of you, sleeping or sweating and always very naked. I donned the special coat I only wear for scheming and slunk…