Month: April 2017

Shanks for the Memories

We don’t have to be anywhere. Counting the ways to delineate the chorus and its grievances. Four A.M. mumble-mouthed on the porch steps, Milwaukee’s dirty water funneled into our tidologies. I feel something absolute in this moment, but do I pin it to your presence anymore? The fickle lining I give too much mercy. We look out to the narrow highway. Sphinx moths beating their flight against the winds of tornado watch aftermath, wing patterns like the auburn while autumn conceives itself, or the eternity of things buried and all of what comes before then unfurling at my tongue’s...

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and in this nightmare a white supremacist tried to kill me

my feet weren’t quick enough to outrun him everywhere I turned was a dead end translation: everywhere I turn my name was already a prayer in someone’s mouth my body was already a casket prepped for mourning I’ve begun to let death condensate my head so often I witness my own blood pour in my dreams and in this nightmare the man carries a blade which reflects the sun translation: there is a light at the end of each tunnel even if the tunnel is my own chest and in this nightmare, i tried to fight back throw my...

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Thank You

As for Judy who dropped off the kitten, thank you. There was a victory march to the garden where we raked the leaves and never once talked about providence or plots. It isn’t the rising waters we worry but how the drought has given way to landslides, broken bridges. The drought used to churn a fine red dust over the wings of airplanes but now the mice have come out of hiding, their homes probably destroyed. Hence the kitten. We should have known, are sort of flattered when our names are read out loud (such enunciation) but with the...

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Vellum

Tonight be vellum       a parchment of flesh bowed in birthmarks and scratches the concave of shoulder blades the arcs of hips   hands translucent cold on any afternoon stomach held tight your eyes clear cautious   aware that to be a woman is to be watched to be painted over and hung carelessly a portrait taken away for dim galleries   for bathrooms an illustration of the nativity of what can’t be owned Let these men these children credit you as only another canvas a sketchbook they’ll fill with crude stick figures penciled in a rush who dissect each other in...

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how to break a married woman

1. call her sexy, baby. even if she doesn’t like it. elevate her to the skies, to the rims of her beautiful eyes. 2. send her lusty emoticons as she struggles with the praise. prop her on a pedestal. she wants to pout and pose. like a vogue model. 3. she is not dark, she is dusky. she is not silly, she is sweet 16. she is not a homemaker, she is a wild fantasy. say you’ll spank her butt. 4. keep her up past 3am. let the adrenaline rush leach her insides. let her lose weight rapidly. 5....

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