AUTOBIOGRAPHY ||| Dunes Review

      My mother’s eyes—a green sometimes blue, or gray—     my father studied them the way he studied light              with his camera lens constantly, there was a sadness, Slavic and cloud-like. My … Continued

I Am Chito ||| The Poetry Foundation

Written in Japanese by Hiromi Itō.       The first time I ever heard about coyotes Was in a book called (in Japanese) Setons’ Animals for Boys and Girls There I encountered Lobo the Wolf King, bighorn sheep, a … Continued

Self-Mastery ||| The Poetry Project

We thank you for your interest, an urge from within, a special something. A sea of metaphysical books before they amounted to clairvoyance. An ether inside a higher ether. Two sensitivities to one whole and a dimension of your dormant … Continued

Maps ||| Seven Scribes

I wandered like a white girl. Oversized backpack, a money belt full of sports bar tips, and a penchant for men with guitars. A fissure in my heart and bad taste in my mouth. I couldn’t afford Europe so I … Continued

St. Augustine Beach ||| FLARE

—FL, our nation’s oldest city When my father saw her sunbathing her lean body that would one day push me from it, over and over,maybe he knew in an instanthis bohemian life had ended. Knew from the string-tied birdsfastened around … Continued

Like Home ||| 0-Dark-Thirty

If I could look through one of the many boarded-up windows around me, I might be able to see the enemy hiding somewhere nearby—amidst the skewed about debris and dry, desert dust. They’re waiting patiently for our movement with machine-gun … Continued

Render Billow ||| Field

1. Follow the mentor across a street, a jaywalk to rare steak and talk of pepper. Crosswalk denied again upon return. My hesitation about headlights, but mentor goes. I do. Other side. Then we hear a crack. Car halt. Follow … Continued

Sowing ||| JuxtaProse

There’s a spring-loaded Red Rider leaning next to the glass of my back door. It’s the same gun   I used as a child to snap little holes in empty Coke cans. Light shone through, casting stars to the ground … Continued

Tough Stain ||| The Rubbertop Review

A tea stain can be removed, I’ve heard, by pouring boiling water from three feet up. This is how rivers began, with a sound like infamy, like bantam waves in a backyard canal. I am not safe for fabrics. I … Continued

Ode In This Condition ||| Boston Review

Praise for this wending, this bearing beginning. The least stuck is groaning, the most has given in. Words a rotted barn, full of must and straw and animals sleeping. I want to dream with you the mountainsides, the beaches, the … Continued