on more than one occasion, i make my mother cry. drunk at twenty-six, i do not tell her whether she is more garden or greenhouse, but i...

I packed a book of poems for us to read aloud in bed.     I want to hear your voice embrace syllables intended to metaphor the...

dust particles float through the air in a stream of light across the bedroom floor landing like soft kisses on skin (my wretched skin)...

I know you read this poem late, before you leave the hedge fund of the singular pulsing lamp-mark & the dusking window in the exhaustion...

Our shoes are different sizes  Toes curling to fit in the space Aching pain bites– Oh, to be included Piano lessons since birth  But a...

just a forlorn gaze  at my missing self  reminds me of our boudoir, once we hermit crabs’ shell.  I imagine myself growing from the dry...

Three communists at a table Discuss the future of planet Earth. Your family back in Vietnam Are struggling, the rice is drowning, No...

My mother’s voice, a hymn of Haiti, Resonates in the rhythm of discipline, Each note a commandment, Each beat a boundary.   I dance...

1.     Pine needles sprinkled down like confetti. 2.                                    -prom closed with reflective confetti. 3.    ...

The summer I was lost, my grandmother gave me black cherry ice cream always two scoops, every night, and we’d sit on the porch in the...

I cut the flowers for a still life,                                     Smiling on the table top hunting joy;                            ...

Stubborn dandelion, yellowed brilliance unaware that it’s outstayed the world’s welcome, soaked in still morning light with a pair of...