Window Thoughts

  Mom stopped smiling last week. I don’t ask why, the tea kettle blows steam. Music from the top of a glass bottle of Coca Cola. Sometimes, I gotta lick my chapped lips before playing the tune. My tongue scrapes the dry spot I bite off with teeth, it bleeds. Once, she asks how school’s… Continue Reading


  If I could love in words I’d write a sestina As long as her legs, filter it in sepia silk sheets shrouded in a vignette. She is a maze I need to understand, again, before I breathe.   Her body, lines of iambic pentameter rhyming in my head. I gasp in complete stanzas.  I… Continue Reading


Consider an allegory about a world where women cannot speak. No. I mean they are unable to talk, their vocal chords severed like slow-cooked pot roast. Or a guy and a girl who fall in love. She becomes his what? An object. I write what I see, or how I’m seen in sweats versus jeans versus a mini-skirt because… Continue Reading