Neha

What a shame it is that beautiful women must do everything beautifully. Against a wall at some house party, this one goes down slow. The man who slides in to sit beside her looks and sees how blue light nestles a crescent moon into the cupid’s bow of her lips. He looks and sees her…

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,…

Lackluster Apocalypse

Someone put their fist through the radio and all weekend it played only Creed. I tried to shrug it off, drove reckless through the stars and woke up blanketed in parking tickets. The Bible in my hotel bathtub was stuffed with subscription cards. My high school enemies kept inviting me to the seafood buffet and…

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…

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…

To be Possessed by You

To be sorted, set among your souvenirs, your stock photographs, your classics. To be licked clean like a cat. To be laid out some nights on your fire escape, bleached by the moon to match your sheets. To be safe in the style of rolled coins, safe like heirloom pearls under glass, safe like sleep….

Pet Project

I built the bear from what I knew of horses. I didn’t know running except towards joy so I molded his legs as sinewed spindles. When he was done, his mouth seemed too long, the slope of his spine distinctly equine but when I called him Bear he answered. I fed him warm milk in…

The Solar Panel Your Father Bought Me for Our Anniversary

———–after Michael J. Hartwell He says the fact that I don’t like it means I’m getting old. He says we’ve lived long enough that we’ve done roses and diamonds to the death. It’s the future, he says, it’s technology, get used to it. But if you’d visit, you’d understand. If you could see it, orphaned…