Writing

“Is Inside Is Outside,” a short story published in Waxwing #14.

Two poems in Thirteen Myna Birds, a zine that features 13 pieces at any given time. Since the pieces disappear as new poems are published, here is a screenshot with the text of the poems below:

poems displayed over a watercolor painting - text below image

What’s Wrong with the Ghost

I don’t know what’s wrong with the ghost
that it haunts me by day
while night crowds into my throat
in a panic

Moths batter themselves against the tent
protesting the nylon
as I would flail for the moon on their side

At home upstairs the furniture moves around
but no one is there

Here
the light
in a circle on the grass is ancient
See how it laps the stones at its edges
as if drinking from the next world

Why the ghost left my body
is I suppose the same reason I have
myself

April 15, 2020

The black handles of my grandmother’s scissors
clipped the daylight from my eyes
led a thousand strange ways the horse
pulling our

The morning air filled with breath and coffee
and a bird with news
all too bright for the time of

The skin on my forehead is tired

A tree finally grew from the improbable
burial of my father’s peach pits

The salty turquoise of antarctic shelves
lurching over our

Future if it were a person would wear
a wetsuit
or a burned suit

Tomorrow another mask

Everyone I’ve ever known who’s died has