No Funeral

You mourn the girl I was / as if I killed her, / as if I left her / in a field somewhere, / shipwrecked in the dry grass –


A Field, Any Field

I believe you believe you meant me no harm,
yet violence was the first way you learned to hold anything.

photo of orange and green cherry tomatoes hanging on a vine


Science, do not forsake us. / Pretend dying won’t be inglorious / and hard, that we’ll reflect light like gowns / sequined and glittering

close-up photo of two pieces of toast, one with a bite out of it

Remaining Evidence

Crumbs pattern the plate / like footsteps in snow.

Thumbnails of America

Do you wish for a heart
less like a turnstile or a mother tongue
other than a dollar?


I wait
for your tenderness.
bleeding along
a foreign border,


he bends me over and asks me to call him daddy so i say who? or blocked