Maybe I mirror you, in ways of unawares, as your mobile carousels above your head, a monitor that ensures you’re sleeping soundly, a roll...

You’re drunk on gin again. Claiming you’re designing the world’s tallest building , in the dirt of his own backyard, that the heavens’...

My telescope has languished in the closet. It’s too cold to take it out. They say it’s gonna rain. It’s balmy in the summer— but the...

I hate KitKat bars. I could leave this poem at that, but then I’d get the infernal why? So I’ll lay it on the table with its wrapper: I...

The office is by the railyard, a whipped- up sheath of brick, undeniably not art deco, the cost of rent a happy medium. Sure, there’s the...

We evolved, we like to state, since the days we fell from highs; fled our bareness & our beads; stayed at home in lieu of marching;...

The best advice I’ve heard is leave them wanting more. As a result, my poems from here on in will be abrupt. Succinct. Truncated like a...

It’s like the first time you fall in love. You don’t ever love a woman quite like that again. —Montgomery Scott, “Relics” Star Trek:...

Families have been starving both in Gaza and Sudan— and yes, a bunch of other places, and I’m complaining my bananas have been bruised. I...

Tomorrow  is my favourite day of the week. No— make it my entire life— the day I’ll rise with a burst, as though I’d swigged some Red...

I’ve heard the bee is dying out, i’bi mŭ you called it in Shoshone, this summer lacking the drone of other years, when it was the two  ...

Every tulip prostrate in expired respiration. The crowning vault of dolphins before entanglement in nets. A painter’s irrevocable stroke...

You’re the man on the seventh floor, who has seldom ventured past the city limits, who drives a bronze convertible every summer, never...

You’re verbose when you’re laconic. Your silence like the crunch of boot-on-grass, in late November frost, foliage swept away by gust...

At some point in your childhood, you and your friends went outside to play together for the last time and nobody knew it. —original...

I have a “friend” who shares his heart beneath the sun, leaves emojis for the wounded from the succor of his sofa, landing like an air-...

You groan you’ve been forsaken, before your swill of vinaigrette, heaving I’ve drowned the lettuce— its brown of decaying leaf, the shed...

Yes, I misconstrued. Assuming this to be a poem of peace, the cessation of our missiles; a round from an AK-7. I thought the number after...

When you told me the biggest human genocide took place in the “Belgian” Congo, I cursed my homeroom teacher, my biased curriculum, the...

Which colour will we say they were once their skin & flesh are gone? The pigment of each iris when their sockets, cavities?  Gouged by...