Poetry

I. Neon signs pass as moonlight here, a promise: the world is still beautiful. II. I remember the night I tried to replace my ribcage with yours, trying to find beautiful in my time- bomb body. [...]

I want to write love poems to my own body. So I’ve started taking the ones I wrote for you and replacing every “you” with “I.” Now I know I too love the taste of the ocean and I will grow like [...]

I am the type of person that reads landscapes like they are love poems and criticizes them for not being beautiful enough. I grew up in a city surrounded by trees, had to find beautiful behind [...]

I am made of ancient oak trees of lions and tigers and spare tires old rubber gathering older dust that has spent its whole life floating through fingertips and vacuums I am made of spiderwebs, [...]

I’ve been asked on more than one occasion if poetry is a means of escape or expression. My answer is always the same: why does it have to be one or the other? I’ve used poetry to simultaneously [...]

Isn’t it all just a balancing act? A tightrope walker Gripping a dog’s leash with her toes The slightest breeze capable of displacing her Suddenly the dog park is slipping out from [...]

It’s 10am on a Sunday; I’m sitting crossed-legged in jogger-pants on a stained beige couch in Starbucks and eagerly fingering the pages of my recent Powell’s purchase. Today the black and red [...]