Reading Time: < 1 minute I’ll write my life into a book,Conveying every blood drop,Each of a thousand sliver deaths,Until its heart beats against its spine. You’ll grip & smudge & bend my pages,Misconstrue every breath and word,As sure as paper turns to ash,As sure as ink will fade.
Reading Time: < 1 minute Sometimes he snores Like the ocean,Like geese before winter takeoff For foreign skies. Each breath escapes, One of however many we have together. Sometimes he wheezes And I do not sleep.
Reading Time: < 1 minute Winter light shocks like a crime scene,Stabbing in from the side at a diagonal,Slashing through trees with harsh, yellowed beams. Backdrops become hazy with the blue gray of old animated cels.Frazzled Cyprus march along the lane,Pushing ahead of distant oak skeletons dimmed by the fogWhile Read More …
Reading Time: < 1 minute I watch you breathe in your sleepThe rhythmic hush-whooshing you makereminds me of the machines beside you. Every weekThe same machines murmured rumors of you,An automated proof of life. Now I lay beside you,Trying to envelope you like the womb again,Wondering if your breath is Read More …
Reading Time: < 1 minute 3 a.m. bottle feedingIn a room with no view.The sound of pouring rainDrums on the ceiling like impatient fingers on a diner counterWaiting My breasts no longer tingle with needles.They do not pour,They do not sprinkle. Irrational sensations of inadequacyStorm away in my chestAs the Read More …
Reading Time: < 1 minute I knowdeep in my belly, deep in that instinctive primate place,that HUMANS AREN’T MADE TO BE AIRBORNEAnd I book the aisle seat. But as I peek across the aisleout of a braver someone else’s windowI see distant isles of deep lavenderawash in violent peach seas.I Read More …
Reading Time: < 1 minute There are some who try to inveigle Yoga students into thinking a kegel Is a Mula bandha lock, So imagine the shock When they discover it’s harder to finagle.
Reading Time: < 1 minute We set our dead into tidy rows Writing pages of graveyards, even though Whether they’re verses or curses Is known only to those Who can read it from either above or below.
Reading Time: 2 minutes “Dying / is an art, like everything else. / I do it exceptionally well.” – Sylvia Plath, “Lady Lazarus” “And four black feet deep with/ Summer’s rotting rooks/ like Thomas Head’s and my time’s/ Unlamented, springless, passed.” – Assia Guttman Wevill, “Winter-End, Hertfordshire” Read More …