Texas LongHorn
Up north, near borders and manure, a woman lives with a Texas LongHorn. She grows red potatoes and asparagus in spring water. She nudged her children with long pitchforks, for all the years that she...
View ArticleWhat I Am And What I Should Be
I was 26 when I became a rope, stretched from loud brown cocktails to the hush of burnt oven mits. I was too thin to be stepped on, so I just laid, spread, fine butter for Homemade Bread Men. I went on...
View ArticleThe Twins
I have been brought a morning in bed, yellow hands expand my eyes. I rise as a vulture, slender billed, nut beaked, baking for a sun day. The night salted me; an open wound, the darkness delivered my...
View ArticleMorning Greets Me
Each morning greets me differently; she kisses my cheek for love, or spits down my throat for some other reason. I used to hate her obnoxious light. When I was a child I threw sticks at her and swore I...
View ArticleThey Try To Erase Me
I never had been born. It was old hands that sketched my frame. Hands that knew how to suffer wisely. It was a gift to my bones, a curse that shifts with weight and time. Clocks wait on scales to tip...
View ArticleThe Bone Yard
I fold my dirty body next to the sun as it falls to sleep across a boneyard. Our Daughters sleep in there, clinging on to life and on to death. They strip down to breast and bone for swine, gnawing on...
View Articlea life of a ghost man
It is hard to believe in a dead man, a ghost, a life, a life of a ghost man…. a life that hands my limp direction over to those that can control it. They must have told him, the people, that his core...
View ArticleA Lifetime Of Love
pretty girl in peach giggles making wishes, blowing quiet whispers off wild flowers pick all the petals you can find before they die green ropes soak up air from my lungs I wish I wish in silence not...
View ArticleI Love Her More
She has a name hanging in a back orchard somewhere. Cowbells are ringing. I gave it up like an omelet to a woman married to perfection. I am missing limbs for limbs, heart for heart. Who am I to...
View ArticleThe Passage
The dragon doesn’t wake with the sun. It is warmed through mock light, on an affected cove. It looks like it could be made of mopani, but he cannot tell colors what they should be and what they are...
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