After Jennifer S. Cheng 1: the sea captured in a glass 2: a homophone for having enough for leftovers, a synonym for abundance 3: the fish, who have already forgotten you. It’s not personal 4: where memory fails, there’s still imagining 5: you. Not as an ocean but outside 6: glass and/or acrylic
Read MoreYear after year, adaptation: neverunwieldy, but steady. Sometimes careless. Always there is traffic, and groceries.Those are the easy things. And then sometimesthese ruptures, or raptures. Great distancesexpand / contract with my breath
“I need to / catch your brain / and steady it”— Sonia Sanchez on this day ur brimming w/ confidence as if after years of getting got u finally got them back
I broke the vase. I daydream about moving states and telling no one. The coyotes in my dream must have meant something. I know no government secrets. I never loved him Probably.
Parched When I woke up this morning I was thirsty for waterso I went into the kitchen and made a coffee. Then I reclined on the couch, warming my ovarieswith my laptop
Willadean was the one who suggested we take the cat home. If it was up to me, I would’ve left it meowing behind that dumpster at Denny’s. My stomach was packed full
We watched free solo about the guy who climbed el capitan with no ropes always one finger grip away from death and as we sat glued to our computer screen for two
Cyclical Renunciations No more photographs in waiting.No more visuals from inner eyepurged, nor visions of dreamswe cannot grasp in our everyday.I’ve dropped my life through life itself,only to find in its metal
a quarto for L.B. all alone in the dark
A blue backpack, filthy, open. Five-year-old Liza was miles from the campsite—metres? What was a mile? Minutes. It had taken her roughly five to get here, to this tree with its fat