Poetry Journal

So far gone

You should seen their faces when they walkpassed us: this bundle of clothestryin’ to avoid uslying in a heap in the entry of their high-rise condothey always walk by and try not to look,or look like they lookin’,but they all do.i’m base’in, and they lookin’she lookin’ for the right spot in her thigh,her marbled thigh,she […]

morning fuzz

While everyone is pushing and pushing back the morning fuzz of autumn, grasses bloom in place. Children holding parent’s hands walking to the bus stop Magnolia petals drop to the street. 

Virus Dreaming

I woke up writing a poem. It might have been a continuation of my dreaming, though, because I had taken out a newspaper advert to write a short two column by six inch persona poem for the Virus. If the Virus had a voice, what accent would I give it? Suddenly a locomotive of a […]