the newspaper boy once told melove is loud. scream three times each day, and someone will at least feed you: sugar-snap peas thrown, showeringlike hail, macadamia nutsscattered like words, even safflower seeds sprinkling the nest of their bowl. after i peckthrough the glistening barswith my beak, the pearly queenhops over, bare feet tapping the linoleum
Read More
To think there is such a thingas a good dayis to neglect the sun’s eternal indifferenceto the clouds and fogthat bottle it up invisibleand block its raysfrom reaching our foreheads. What kindof
Our first date is at an Italian restaurant in the Upper East
(Where neither photography nor sketching were allowed) I. The freighted thud of
Here is what happened: On the eighth of August in the year 2010, a nineteen-year-old college student flips her car on the stretch of road that the church ladies always said would
What If Hermaphroditus Let Salmacis Stay Part of Them Because that They had come to think⠀⠀of weight against the body as a kindnessThey were gifted—that undisputed They.⠀⠀Because it was a body scores
In the ten-second video, the praying mantis tries to fit its own head back on, connected by a slimy white stem. In the dorm room, I memorize the laminate earthquake plan that
Humanity (a loose brick) Dislodged a brickfrom the cathedralof Salamanca Humanism —that was dodgy— Took that brick homeput it on the mantlestuffed it in the closet —that was freaky— Then took the
Bless the man who dismounted an elliptical just as a song blaring from a far room of the gym ended.His timing was perfect, to know when he poked his sweaty head
My reptile mother birthed a reptile daughter – cold-blooded, always chasing sunlight. The weather turns a screw in a fractured femur, and wrenches me rheumatic with the foresight of
Christmas, blue lights refract through the wetwindshield. Us, in the backseat,while my brother drives through the richestneighborhood in Orange County. It’s tradition.From the passenger, my sister says,Who’s the white girl?I don’t know
Rose teaches us how to stomp!
Winner 2024 EROTIC Contest: Poetry On Miranda’s poem, judge Stephanie Cawley writes: “In the middle of ‘The Monster is God,’ the poet writes, ‘yes — no,’ the dash a stark bridge where
In 6th grade, a small group of boys started carrying around little, red laser beams on keyless keyrings. They were small enough to fit in the palm of the boys’ hands.