elegies for a small town
1 call me dramatic / I think I’ll die if I stay here / by which I mean, I’ve burnt every bridge with a sharp tongue / by which I mean, I...
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Nov 10, 20231 min read
unmarked
weeds grow tall, untended, past the iron gate. the air is too still, noiseless. loss hangs heavy here. concealed beneath yellow grass,...
Dec 30, 20221 min read
what we leave behind
my mother found photographs beneath the refrigerator in our first house. I always wondered how they were lost, why no one noticed they...
Dec 28, 20223 min read
our other lives
1 I never cared for the color of my own eyes before I saw his. coffee-with-cream brown. they drip honey in the sun. I swear they hold...
Dec 28, 20224 min read
you bake dutch oven bread with your mother
ingredients: one packet active dry yeast 2 cups lukewarm water, between 90–110° F 4 cups all-purpose flour, plus more for dusting 1 ½...
Dec 28, 20222 min read
168
i my life: marked by milestones of meals, snapshots of snacks shared over tables. our house was is always will be...
Dec 28, 20222 min read
when I long for you, I long for sundays
a poem as my grandmother when I long for you, big brother, I long for sundays – how we skipped church and spent our mornings hiding in...
Dec 28, 20225 min read
Fish Out of Water
Carmel, California. 2006. The first time I remember seeing the ocean. The first memory not on faded photographs, but in my mind. I wear a...
Dec 28, 20221 min read
after communion, i question god
after 'Midnight Mass' (2021) the blood of christ – wine, warm and rust-colored, coats my tongue and fills my throat with promises of...
Dec 28, 20227 min read
Crickets in the Field
The casket was closed. It was the one thing Freddie cared about, and the only input he gave when they discussed the funeral. He let Lisa...
Dec 28, 20222 min read
on feeling lightning
I am twenty-three / standing in the rain of a pacific northwest thunderstorm on a september midnight / standing at the foot of the stairs...
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