POETRY

“Poetry is language at its most distilled and most powerful.”
—Rita Dove
A Beautiful Thing

I want to roll in this moment until I become its vocabulary
until I smell like the bones
until I am its echo…

[Zoetrope with Particulates in it and a Newborn]

and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud

painting of apple and grapes
Feast Of

anger, like you can sink teeth into, candy apple

Time Travel

I count my homes—
those of my scattered youth
the sanctuary of our young family
the intermittent rest stops
of apartments and vacations.

beach
On Undressing a Color / On Undressing a Girl

I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.

Clotheslines

Ma wrings
a wet world
of colors

Tea

my father holds
his favorite drink

Good Driver

Lights on the dashboard spell out
“You still can’t kiss me”

melting ice cap
blue is the color of surrender

you know that
baby swallows make silver ripples
in wild rivers to court reeds?

Electric Eels, Finishing School, Teeth

Millions of Americans have been affected by identity theft. It’s probably the greenhouse gases.

An Interview with Dylan Krieger

Dylan Krieger’s poetry is unflinching, grotesque, and beautiful. Her work tackles trauma, wrestles authority, and is a decadent sonic feast.

Making Israeli Salad

Now that the Israeli has left, it falls
on me to make the salad.

Finding My Fix

I slumped in front of a massive desk, a passive patient corroded with failure and dread.

Despairathon

You’ve spent a lifetime training
for this.

First

Long after midnight, we’re talking about our first time

An Endeavor of Being Now

We stop doing dishes while
a mile unwinds
from the tree outside.

Dis Place Ment

People have always coped with flooding, and they learned to cope with death.

robertson quay

how does an afternoon turn
on its axis?

The Body is a Sin

The sin is existing.