•June 9, 2022 • Leave a Comment

I’ve left
My life
Line on
A threshold
The up
And down
So I
Must reach
If I
Should need
A way
To leave
Fucking town.


Painting: A Key Too Far, by Gyuri Lohmuller


•April 8, 2022 • Leave a Comment

What if
There is no easy
Clean cut
Only a clumsy
Of scars
By a careful
Of those healing
Gone awry
A restitching
Of the self
Into a neater
More presentable
Of old injury
And in time
If you are lucky
You can bare
Your soul and skin
Without the shame
Of scaring


Photography by Cindy Johnson for The Scar Project


•March 27, 2022 • 1 Comment

In early morning
A train whistle
Split and traveled
Bending trees
And raking grass
The shockwave
Straight into me
Picture frames
And aging meat
From well placed
Inside my brain


Painting: Old Smokehouse by Druzhin Constantine


•February 12, 2022 • Leave a Comment

The springtime sounds
Of sawing wood
I never hear in winter
Redemption rides
Warm temperatures
To fix what freezing splintered


Painting: Redemption, series by Pejac

Asymmetric Urges

•January 15, 2022 • Leave a Comment

I love to run my lips
Along my freshly lacquered nails
Their sturdy smoothness soothes me
And I do it quite incessantly
As if to reassure myself
That comfort always lives
Only a hand gesture away
But nearly simultaneously
I feel the urge to flinch
To part my lips and teeth and jaw
And bite down hard
To leave behind a dented scar
Along one perfect surface
Erasing all symmetric sureness
Playing with my own desire
To allow and to deny 
And so sometimes I bite
And when I do I always know
Which nail my lips will seek out first


Painting: Women’s Hands by Christina Maifoshi


•January 14, 2022 • Leave a Comment

And then
There was
A canyon
When I had
Only dreamt
Of seas


Painting: Canyon Edge by Ian Cook

Open Space

•December 13, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Glass bottles glisten
On a freshly
Lined lot
And I
Find myself wishing
I am somewhere
I’m not



•November 24, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Today I sat
With resistance
A hive of bees
Behind the walls
Of my chest
And frenzied
Making their way
In all directions
Burrowing inside
The drywall
Of my thighs
Roaming random
Down to my
Dead end toes
Bumping on bone
And turning
Churning over
Each other 
Through my middle
Frantic flitting
Up my throat
Wildly swirling
Inside my mouth
Alighting on
The lightly sealed
Line of my lips
Crawling and testing
I could feel them
Trying and tickling
With antennae against
The soft corners
Of my mouth
For weakness
And tempting me
To open up
And let them out



•November 5, 2021 • Leave a Comment

A bundle of “No”
Swaddled warm in my arms, still
Always free to leave

-me (and she)

Vintage photo of a cat, photographer unknown

Gut Check

•November 4, 2021 • Leave a Comment

Sitting silent
Makes me hungry
As I stare
At hope awhile
But the blank page
Beyond hoping
Calls my innards
To defile
Because I’d rather
Spill than eat
Your shit
It’s filled me rank
For way too long
I chewed and gagged
And choked it down
But it’s been
Deadly to belong
So I choose
Either by heaving
Or entrails
I’ll stay starving
In my stillness
Before I gorge
Your crap


Artwork by Jenny Schmid
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