four years ago, I watched seas of red wash over the capitol building, fire and brimstone and cries of American carnage perched in the...

(A Valentine's Day Poem to my sister (age 11)) exchanging glances covert and whisking our judgements like cookie butter she’s definitely...

delicate guardrails dot the distance of 24 to 168 inches between us if we were close like swinging childrens’ hands only 18 to 24 inches...

step one. survey the sink sample out dishes. scrutinize their sizes. run your hands through the soapy excess. here is your mountain there...

underneath my bed, lies the mementos of my sister’s childhood. she is only going on eleven, but she is soon entering her second skin like...

the first word the first, real, long word i learned to spell was Safeway S-A-F-E-W-A-Y i would lean in to the stranger unwillingly...

We have a bad habit of replacing humans with numbers, as quantities added and subtracted to meet predicted patterns of lines and charts...

I’ve been told I talk too fast Because my words are looped together like bows told I mumble The end of a sentence barely faded to grey...

may I tell you a myth I heard long ago fields plucked into hazy, shallow ocean green air heavy voluptuous wisps of fingers pressed down...

If I could birth new language Would I stick to the same contours the same meadows I’ve wandered in because I suffer obsessions with the...

what shackles do we put on clinking like bracelets what do we choose to be captivated by enraptured with eyes, ears, hands, tongue, nose...

I was standing in the living room when you appeared You stepped in as if you hadn’t unzipped space As if death had only delayed you for a...

when venice sinks we will be there in our boats watching when venice sinks we will see the phantom ripples of gondolas murmuring through...

Did you forget That story holds breath That exhale is Momentum That my words are a lifetime Of lungs contracting When you pick up my...

If I were a girl who won ribbons I would be crowned, Not Miss Congeniality But Miss Contrarian And I will take it as a compliment Because...

A painting of my death Strokes thick, luscious In That Way Only paint can be And you will not be able to tell Where I am going Caught up...

My dad used to call me his little space cadet Because my head is always in the cloud Rocket girl Pigtails peeking from fiberglass windows...

My family is a rocketship And we are just crossing out the solar system My family is thick, off-white canvas Steady, sandpapered easel...

they call me odessa name is destiny my parents took yarn threaded it through the ‘o’, and the ‘a’ wove me into my history shtetl turned...

This poem is for my two adopted grandmothers My two temporal angels For four years of traded stories On advice highways Four years of...