i meet ezra, hold that heaving ( Read more... )

kristin says beau ( Read more... )

we said, well it seems like now is a better time.

three years ago you pursue me and i wave my hand, too complicated, too scary, too close.the first poem i send, you think i imply guilt but i mean only to tell you how i feel ( Read more... )

i cook a steak ( Read more... )

there are really only two options: unfriend all of my facebook friends with babys or pregnant bellies or get knocked up.

he says in some over-compassionate rendition
trying for tact

"you need to live your own life, baby."

and again, and again the heart, buried deeply as ever in the human breast it;s four chambers exposed to love and joy and pain and the small shafts that fall with desperation betweenreminds me of kelli in the face of her father's death three years ( Read more... )

held you in your heart cracks and rips, your lover leaving, until you made your way, folding, soon to snore, to your partner's bed. i spoon the dog the next room over. morning sprayed loose with hairs of black and grey your daughter comes in an hour too early to cuddle. taxed, underslept, i decline ward off daylight promise next time, next ( Read more... )

The thing about writers is that they tune in to the tenderness of the world.

The power of the people is in my bones today. It might be caffeine, but I think it's the people.

i dream i edge along a narrow beach littered with fish bones and fossils. i pick up a fish head bone, long, ivory and sand-warmed. i wonder how these bones had gone unseen for so long. two whales watch me at sea line. anxiety and distress fill the air. i walk over and the blue whale draws me into the water, silently explaining to me why the animals ( Read more... )