My Poetry

Matter.

HOW DO YOU MATTER? to a country that sees your skin as a weapon. your sibling. your father. your mother. your close friend. slain.   it’s a wound you carry like bites on your ankle. covered with socks and silence and neglect.   how many souls have they misdiagnosed? misunderstood? punished?   they know. but… Continue reading Matter.

Advertisements
My Poetry

One in the Morning (A Ghazal)

One in the Morning.   One hundred dollars to be loved for one hour by a woman named Beloved.   The volume on the rental car radio is turned all the way down to one as you   and her wrinkle the leather in the backseat with your naked, dry flesh. One   time when… Continue reading One in the Morning (A Ghazal)

My Poetry

Endorphins

“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

My Poetry

Alta Vista

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

My Poetry

From a Flower

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

My Poetry

A Pantoum on Infestation

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

My Poetry

Sonnet 2: The Blues

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

My Poetry

Sonnet 1: A Love Poem

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

My Poetry

The Alien in the Alley

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

My Poetry

AmethysT

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