I'm excited to say that the annual print issue of Duality has released. In it, I have the below poem. Many thanks to Dale, the editor, for creating several great literary journals and giving this poem a home. Driving Home (Again) I'm routing and re routing. Fires in Orange County reroute to (40), Bakersfield for... Continue Reading →
My Poetry: Past My Quarantine Window
The black ribbon, cracked and cauterized, carries them like thirst. mouth to throat. Hungry water, they trawl strollers, dogs, bags of to-go food, flimsy face masks clutches of mail toward the mouth. They are soft as water, lifting from the skin of the ribbon in ripples, throat-thirsty, fever-flushed in the sun.
Barrio Viejo Autumn
When you get up, the street lamps will still be lit. You will put on a jacket and socks (November to May) or not (May to November) and open your door quietly so the bell you hung there does not ring and wake the neighbors you imagine sleep as lightly as you do and who... Continue Reading →