Out to sea, squalls whip up seahorse waves. On the beach, showers glitter crystal veils in escaped sun rays. Lugworm-casts coil between...

Solitudinal I want to be alone / floating free / from the universal / away from the glare / of the sun / and spotlight...

The Memory of Stone fried onions linger sweetly sleepers stir to a strong coffee swell living in boppy pop sing-a-longs and boogie nights...

When words weave wonder Pen meets paper as ink spills. Tightly coiled spirals of loose-leaf fibers float. Muddy puddles of blue, black,...

On the medical examiner’s table: Women’s bodies. Wolves’ bodies. Rigor-mortis limbs like life-size dolls. Blood-matted fur flayed over...

A stick-sketched heart survives the ebbing tide. Scalloped lines, curve, swell and taper rolling over hard and soft sand – fresh wind...

I suppose, it is easy to forget shadows. How they move and feel. Their utter nothingness at the edge of vision. Tendrils ...

1. You are not the tangled Spider Plant your seventy-five-year-old foster mom (five worlds ago) made you water every day. So stop sending...

(a golden shovel poem after the song “You Are My Sunshine”) Every night before bed, you read “The Kissing Hand” to me. The book with the...

i. I know you by the many names you use for camouflage: fbuds, blow bud, Netflix and chill, bennifriends, “maintenance,” white boy toy,...