to teach me how to clean my ears, / my mother gave me a / healthy lie.

We drove five hours trying to get to wilderness. After two on road, she leant over and pushed the wheel until I stopped fighting.

You slip out of your transparent / Front door in your day suit, / Reach the sidewalk at rather much / The same time as everyone else

My house died yesterday. The worst part, I was there— / ​There when its face had crumpled.

She's been here for years / but yesterday, I heard she might / have told me a lie.

I have a rage stroke / waiting for the electrician: / I whip up and down / the shotgun house / also expecting Lowes / to call

In the afternoon, high above, winter sparrows / tear at thick white clouds with their beaks / & call

the overdose will not be cataloged / there will be no mention of bodies on the carpet / ​I slipped the Narcan back into the box & buried it / in the garden.

God Loves You 22 / declares the billboard on my commute / this morning, towering over the ragtag surf / of cars and highway, everyone busy on their way

You know it exists / but everyone around you says it doesn't. / Sometimes you can feel it pressing in / as your partner submerges in a place / filled with drinks and smiles

Her heart was not entirely stone. Her interior seemed comprised of one stone & one bird. She told her parents she read a short piece by her favorite poet, Victoria Chang…

The dental hygienist showed me / pictures of the coastline of my gums / to persuade me to buy a mouthguard. See / she says. This is very advanced for your age.

i walk one morning while it's still dark / watch the big dipper as i make / my way over to the boulevard a few streets / from my house

Even now I can't stop looking / for houses, changing the search / parameters – one bathroom or / two, another $50k on the maximum, / townhouse or single family home.

What did I bury that never came back? / Baby teeth and loose change eventually / find their way to me. When do I stop?

A roof is like the deck of a boat, / Beyond the gutter we will fall into the abyss.

What I wouldn't pay—a bleeding sack of / Surgeon, tailor, sculptor hands, / To guzzle down their gizzards, / Lick their locks clean

the passage, sore eyes, slow / emptiness. the darkness / beneath these half-bunkers / is a border.

The sea has not been seen by me, though / thoughts of salt and spray have always filled / my mind.

Bellatrix Sakakino perpetually craved her favorite food. Her problem was that it was a rather unconventional favorite.