20th February 2020

the on and on whatever

I’ve been a miner for a heart of cardiac muscle.

The love songs I write are about charcoal and sulfur,

the difference between temperature and energy.

Medium • 11th December 2019

Poem Comprised of Lines from Emily Dickinson’s Letters

If my ideas are rather dark, you need not marvel.

Crab Fat Magazine • 6th September 2019

excerpts from "book of shadows"

beloved, I have been undressing

unknown men

who bring me caraway

and float in soundless water

8th February 2023

Film poems from Nymphlight

some light is light
some light blooms like a virus
and some light is trees

8th February 2023

I REMEMBER YOU WERE MY LOVER

the bees were slung like bullets at the memory
of your body like a prayer

Yalobusha Review • 15th June 2019

excerpt from ‘Book of Shadows’

I had a fistful of dillseed wrapped in warped tinfoil

The Collagist • 15th June 2019

Storm Warning

Why else would I even go to Wal-Mart?

Finery • 17th July 2019

Saint Karen

You can still pray to her for shiny hair.

Diode • 15th June 2019

Two poems

Pulls bee skin onto his own fingers

B O D Y • 17th July 2019

Chlorophyll Homunculus

Birth was in my own hands—blood that felt like wind.

Jet Fuel Review • 15th June 2019

Moonflower

She had me crawling through the grit of fire opals.

THANK YOU FOR SWALLOWING • 7th July 2015

HERE’S THE DEAL, BABYCAKES

We came of age with magazines blaring women in blenders.

Prelude • 15th June 2019

Two poems

record grooves or a lock of a lover’s hair

H_ngm_n • 18th July 2019

The Jurassic Age

The dinosaur refuses to call them polka dots.

Anti-Heroin Chic • 5th July 2019

Three poems

There are some windows that can never be opened.

Abjective • 18th July 2019

ABJECTIVE

I dream you are a live wire, you are alive.

elimae • 17th July 2019

"Evanston Hotel, Room 209," "Bloody Mary," and "TIME"

What a hard memory of you
to keep
keep inside these splendid thighs

Ladowich / Medium • 14th August 2015

Closure

The girl who made the coffee found it one day.

Cosmonauts Avenue • 4th November 2015

Two poems

Constellations rearrange themselves like codeine. I live in a world without any physics.

5th July 2019

Rocket Man

Happiness is a warm schlong when you don't shoot to kill.