I chugged another Corona in my Dolores Park circle of safety. A San Francisco park crew painted a starry sky of circles on that spread of green. My friend Sophie said behavioral art back when we conquered Tecates down Valencia glory and before a Mission Street mural. Within […]
Published in Still Human (Falkenberg Press, 2025)
Published in Still Human (Falkenberg Press, 2025)
Published in Still Human (Falkenberg Press, 2025)
Published in Still Human (Falkenberg Press, 2025)
My Grandma Madeline once told me a log family found security along a riverbank while a wolf disemboweled a man around the bent neck of an ephemeral flow. The man screamed horror, his organs splayed out under a wraparound-hug moon, but the family didn’t hear his pain. Sprung from the expanse of his wet bark […]
Published in Still Human (Falkenberg Press, 2025)
on my Mom’s body because well we needed a weekend party. But now on the bee sting of a Monday morning, their corporate pronouns are all tripped up. When my Mom smudges drugstore lipstick on my brother’s lips, he she they push human-propelled sight under tiled fluorescence […]
I am a man though I believe I once breathed as a mother in low sunlight who drank milk from cows grazed in cemeteries. Under the same moon I blink under now, she nursed her neonate son before a fire’s dancing limbs. I wonder about the trajectory of mortal flesh seeped into […]
Published in Still Human (Falkenberg Press, 2025)