When I was 21, I set myself on fire...
MICRO
War of Bargain
Above me, the sun turns my country to a boil.
BACK OF THE ENVELOPE
Mirror Mother
She says, look.
The world is ending.
The bridges are unbuilding themselves.
ART
Portrait of a Book Report
The presumed quiet of isolation was replaced by withdrawal shakes—like being five coffees deep in a morass of meme-culture doom-scrolling. I found myself engaging far too many headlines and far too few books. At some point I asked myself: What from this noisy world do I want to fill myself with? What can I do to amplify voices of insight, beauty, reason?
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RECENTLY PUBLISHED
Something Is Wrong with the Way I Look
If something so small, the slightest ill harmony, can make someone like Ryan Gosling ugly, what does it mean about me?
Insomnia Diary
1:28 am./ I’ve taken Ambien every day this week. On Tuesday a quarter tab,/ by Thursday, a half. My pillow bucks. Crows peck the skylight& the moon’s a neon fog. My love breathes through his mouth—flaming a fire./ I close my eyes to the smoke but sparks remain.
“Break up with your gender, I’m bored” and “Shot Number 1”
I will not die, I promise you this. Even if the bruise /
turns blue and creates a pretty palace on my skin, on the other side /
of that flesh wall I am becoming my own best man.
