My Therapist Asks Me To Explain Why I Re-write Fairy Tales
The wood-and-plastic fort
in my backyard doesn’t exist
anymore. No child will ever climb
to the platform...
On Election Night, I Reach for My Partner’s Hand
in bed. Try to sleepby concentrating
on the pulsethat shudders
through the thick, bluerivers along his arms. I...
Miserable Pleasures by Hilton
Consider the miserable pleasures of a hotel breakfast: green bananas, stale bagels, cereal dispensers crushing Lucky Charms to powder even as...
Bildungsroman: Climate Control
When the air kicked on, I used to
pretend it was the breath of everything
near by that just died: bugs, birds, the way
people...
