“Regularly going to concerts could lead to a longer, happier life.”––Patrick Fagan of GU elbow to elbow in a hot and loud crowd of intimate and noisy strangers that are drenched in spores of sweat as they dance and stomp recklessly with their limbs and sticky hair on top of hardwood floors stained with… Continue reading Endorphins
I think about the mornings it saved me: a purple dinosaur in the morning. a big, yellow bird in the afternoon. old plastic bowls full of warm milk and colorful cereal residue. loud weekend living rooms. cooking pies with cold dirt and pebbles in the white, hard plastic house with pink shutters in… Continue reading Alta Vista
I come from a long line of black faces sculpted from the dry, jet black meat of a sunflower. Created in thirty different shades of black, but all given the same smile. White smiles as shiny and sly as the fat beads of sweat running down the sun’s thick neck. These faces and smiles traveled… Continue reading From a Flower
The burgundy bugs crawl all around in my brain. Dancing under the pink meat of my face. Their little sticky, sinister feet march again and again. If I wasn’t insane I’d probably feel the bass of their feet dancing under the pink meat of my face. Chomping on the raw insides of my cheeks… Continue reading A Pantoum on Infestation
Sonnet 2: The Blues A blue butterfly landed on my windowsill last night and I let him in because you had the same eyes. But his skin was blue and yours was black but your aura had a blueness to it. Do you still feel that way sometimes Blue? You never told… Continue reading Sonnet 2: The Blues
Sonnet 1: A Love Poem I’m exactly what you said I would be. The sin, the stain, the blood, the pain, the wrath, the greed. I’m nothing more than you thought of me. I’m just like your nightmares, except I bleed. My blood reeks of salty teardrops and hate. It reeks of soggy darkness… Continue reading Sonnet 1: A Love Poem
The Alien in the Alley She is hairy and Abstract and lives on the walls with wings dipped in black. She’s not a cliché fly. She is a jaw-dropping butterfly. A goddamn mighty butterfly. With vivid, godly wings that are lengthy like sophisticated words. She, a spellbinding creature, surrounded by bile… Continue reading The Alien in the Alley
Amethyst; that was her name, and that was the shade of her strut. She’d float down the sidewalk like an apparition, in high-heels sharp like the corners of counters, and force the smell of manually-mashed passionfruit to mingle with the cool air. Click, clack. Click, clack. The heels. Left, right. Left, right. The eyes. She… Continue reading AmethysT
He will always be home. The smell of that apple-scented candle lingering through the vents of the house Shoes with muddy tongues lined up by the front door Red, hot stove burners alive on Sunday mornings Scratches and greasy fingerprints cluttering the worn porcelain bowls Battered pillows covered in drool and old make up Wrinkled… Continue reading Residency.
She can wear what she wants. She can walk down the street naked, and you still would not have the right to violate her. If someone leaves the door to their house open, does that give you the right to walk in? To caress their couches, examine their personal pictures on the wall, sleep in… Continue reading Do Not Touch.