Milk When I learned your mother hadn’t breastfed you, I wanted to do it. Having no milk, we would have to imagine it. “It tastes like moonlight,” I would say, feeling the silent warmth empty from my breast, a grown man suckling that long denied nourishment, a homecoming. [Meet the Moon | Christian Schloe]Read more "Milk"
Unbreaking The Vase After death spat me out of its dark belly— I had to learn how to breathe again, had to walk through the forest, willing my pain to drop through the soles of my feet into the dirt, the earth transmuting my troubles with its tender indifference. The wind has picked the sorrows […]Read more "Unbreaking The Vase"
Horses I know about the wild horses in your head. Your skin, that sings with the sandstorm of their manes. My pulse also gallops with their racing. The grasslands of my soul have been swept flat with the winds wept by their tails. My heart has been worn ragged by their hooves and I can […]Read more "Horses"
Distress Calls If you are sailing and need help, but have no flares or rockets on your ship, there is a signal of distress a person can perform physically. Stretch out both arms on either side of your body, then slowly raise and lower them repeatedly. Pretend you are a bird flying in slow […]Read more "Distress Calls"
January Month of poems. Bark, rain-stripped and grey. Tears of amber sap, of cold, frost and snow days when even the birds retreat. Winter hedges us along, the red berries bright against the rust-brown, moss-covered, lichen-mottled shades of January. We must be careful what we think about these days. We’re at the age now when […]Read more "January"
Cold Comfort I watched a deer standing in the snow— first star of evening caught in the branches of the pines. As dusk fell, its mate bounded into the clearing. They breathed into each other’s noses and I ached to be like them.Read more "Cold Comfort"
Cut cucumbers in half, scrape out regret. Cut halves diagonally. Add hunger, vinegar, sugar & mint. Stir. Let stand at room temperature 1 hr., explore existential angst as needed. Serve chilled, with rapturous longing.Read more "Care & Feeding"
The Darkening Summer’s fruit is rotting. I will use it to fertilize my seeds. When the world terrorizes me, I will hold up the mirror & ask: How do I terrorize myself? My path is strewn with bones. I will make a flute to play! Is magic, then, all in your head? wondered the initiate. […]Read more "The Darkening"
Safe I always felt it with you. A feeling I never had before. Moored. If you are my harbor, then I am a ship. Sometimes I crave the crash of tide on hull, my sails long to stretch like wings once more. But I am like the cat, who sleeps with her face in your […]Read more "Safe"
Stolen Pomegranates When I was a young girl, my best friend and I would hop the chain-link fence at school and sneak onto the neighbor’s land to play in the pomegranate groves. The shrubby trees grew on the other side of an expanse of raw tilled earth. The man who owned the land loomed large […]Read more "Stolen Pomegranates"