on the poetry days…

Stay tuned for forthcoming work in:

  • Scapegoat Review
  • Open Door Magazine

My poems are sending me postcards from their travels.

Up into the Ocean

No one believes he has risen. Even the street-corner prophet
stops replacing his megaphone batteries.

::: Published in THE AVENUE :::

What to Do with Poems

I serve the ones who looked like me
using silver inlay plates that cannot be microwaved.

::: Published in FEVER DREAM :::

Deploy

My grandfather’s fingerprints trace the pathway from the makeshift bedroom to the bathroom.

::: Published in THE AVENUE :::

Exoskeletons and Wolfpacks

Like the forest, we’re held together by web lines seen only when weight is shifted back and forth.

::: Published in FEVER DREAM :::

Sorryoholics Anonymous

My name is daughter, wife, woman
and I am eroding into one reliance: sorry.

::: Published in THE AVENUE :::

#vanlife

It’s tiring:
calling everyplace home.

::: Published in FEVER DREAM :::

Origin Story of a Divorce

I forget I was there, only five at the time. I like the story better without me in it.

::: Published in GYROSCOPE REVIEW :::

Quieting for Connection

Every story follows one of seven archetypes; Voyage and Return is most popular, followed by Rebirth.

::: Published in THE WONDROUSLY REAL MAGAZINE :::

On Turning Thirty

Did I look away when you brushed your ambitions behind your ear?

::: Published in ARTHROPOD JOURNAL :::

Organ Donor

With my left hand I flick Morris code into my sternum.

::: Published in ARTHROPOD JOURNAL :::

Where to Next

I’d think it all perfect if not for a store-bought drone ripping it all open

::: Published in BLOOD MOON POETRY :::

TO CARRY

It’s not for us to find them in the magnetic starfish,

::: Winner of the 2021 Icebreaker Prize, in SPARKED LIT MAG :::

VISITING BENNU

I’m not creative enough to think of who you would be at 43. Out of habit, I still try.

::: Published in RISING PHOENIX REVIEW :::

FROST BITE

Can you know how close a gun is by the bullet’s echo?

::: Published in RISING PHOENIX REVIEW :::


Your Name in Ink


rolling across delicate metatarsals.

Four letters, put in your order–

artificial gravity

fastening me to ground.