Her searching eyes stuck in a patch of gleam, the forward rippling ocean. Mounting the sand dunes, the man swells into a throbbing shape. Ascending the dune the man slides a smudge in his alligator boots. He struggles against the
At the Prison Her Hands Cling to the Sting of the Wires of the Chain Link Fence. Drained Blue Sky. Staring at the Red-Sign of the Prison Gate. The Placard Reads. There is No Unction for the Destitute.
Unslept prison-guard sleeps in his office of wire-chair. She says in a voice gripping water I’d like to enter please. The desk inside the foyer empty. She is pressing the desk-bell with soft finger tip, the bell-sound lances the room.
The Woman: A Witness
The woman wakes to the pressing weight of the world. Her square sunken room is washed up in boxes to pack, trinkets memories to stuff into the throats of silences. Freedom is a sack of wet feathers, her sternum is
First Kiss
She is not sliding off a cliff stepping into the man’s red car. She is not falling like a Silk porous unbearable hot dusk broken by the murmur. His car engine runs like open Water, I’m stuffed he says, groping
Dislocated Heart
the trains took away the mountaintops leveled the side of the bear’s home earth body dynamited & hauled away the vanished live in clouds now how difficult it is to start again with monsters building pipelines thru your ribs the
Talking to Your Mother
unable to tell her your feelings towards transporting fossil fuels along the columbia and burning coal trains on tribal land just saying i feel like a caged animal find your peace she says walk on the beach hide in the
Food Sovereignty
the houma of louisiana blessed the beginning of shrimp season as oil spilled thru their watersheds politicians said the cost of protecting the estuaries is not worth your community the houma sow their healing plants on higher ground now
We Were Blind Drunk By Noon
We were blind drunk by noon. I woke up in my car when the sun was fading out. My grogginess fell away, replaced by mounting horror. We were in the parking lot of the LL Bean flagship store. I had
Suburbia
In the foreign lexicon, there is a word for space. It opens, and carpenter ants file out, forward momentum of the villain and the god. Middle-class ennui lacks stakes. What will advance the plot, save for Archimedes’ proof, the caves
Dementia Journal
In the cooling light of morning, I swept the yeast from the corners of my eyes. I put on wheat, cooked the toast that is, spread the crisp with orange jelly. Spoons spilled out of the drawer. Although I had