Browse Topics
Friendship
The Eleventh Street Irregulars
After long afternoons restoring the decrepit boat, we watched trains / pass and deciphered riddles in bottle caps we twisted free / with empty hands and our ready, useless strength.
July 2026City Chickens
I never thought // I’d end up like this, domesticated as a pet lamb, / with a mate who worries our hundred-year-old house // needs new everything, shingles to foundation.
June 2026
Practicing
Taking piano lessons, learning to speak Russian, seeking enlightenment
May 2026
Rise
I wasn’t about to tell Simon what happened. Buddy Sikes was one of the popular kids. Simon wouldn’t understand. Not because of his differences, but because he was still at the age where a clear line separated right from wrong.
May 2026
My Bowstring Heart
On the field I was all animal instinct and brute force—a bruiser, a bone breaker. Every tackle was a rebuke against a life where fathers die. When I played rugby, I wasn’t a broke, lost little girl. I wasn’t a struggling amateur writer. I had goals. I was a winner. I was MVP. I was someone.
May 2026
Four of Cups
Maybe it was a mistake choosing such a solemn and contemplative place. Raising your voice above a whisper feels like an intrusion. The entrance branches into different rooms, leading you through multiple cultures and eras. You can move through time, follow the various paths available to you. You pick a direction and go.
April 2026
Pockets
Shoplifting cigarettes, running the pool table, creating a “pocket prairie”
March 2026
Selected Poems
It all reminds me of that moment when you take off your sunglasses / after a long drive and realize it’s earlier / and lighter out than you had accounted for.
March 2026Expats
Rhonda tended to take in people—and cats, Jessica said. Spending about $150 of her monthly Social Security check on cat food, in addition to supporting her meth habit, had left her broke most of the time.
March 2026
Los Vecinos
And we’re included in the golden circle / of familia, through no virtue / of our own, yet here she is again at our door / with a plate of something delicious, or a big plastic bag / filled with nopales from the edible pads / of the giant cactus in their yard
March 2026
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