Poems

Red Flow Red flow on the groundMakes my heart poundLife leaks out slowWhere did strength go? See me nowFeel the painBleed somehowHuman stainOpen woundDark night moansSometimesWe fallSometimesIt hurts us all See me nowFeel the painBleed somehowHuman stain

Quarantine Hymn For A Forsaken Village (West African Ebola Outbreak, 2014–2016) You could hear it in the lull between gunfire and prayer —mosquitoes whining, radios half-silent, red dirt baked into the last meal,Plastic sheeting flapping over beds where children once giggled,a nursery recast as a field hospital, hope stitched to a rusted IV wheel,The smell

Pull of the Undertow She is the undertow you do not feel until you are under,the quiet drag beneath the surface pulling down like thunder,she does not crash or roar or make the water look unkind,she just pulls you out past safety and you do not seem to mind I felt her current first in

Punch the Clock Wake up and haul it out of bed before the sun shows up,pour the coffee, black and bitter, in a chipped and faded cup,the alarm went off at five-fifteen, the same as every day,and the body does its duty ’cause the body gets no say. Throw the boots on, lace ’em tight,

Premium Experience The premium lane at the airport costs a hundred-twelve,It’s the same security as the regular shelfOf shoes and laptops in the bin, it’s just that there are four peopleIn the premium lane instead of forty, and the steepleOf privilege is: you reach the x-ray beltEleven minutes faster and you also get to feltThe

Pretty When She’s Broken She draws lipstick like a blade, red smudged like sins she never madeWhispers to herself in the mirror, “Smile, bitch, you’re still paid”But her eyes are cracked glass, mascara warpaint for the wars she never choseNights blur in motel ceilings, ashtray prayers and throbbing ceilingsShe fucks to forget, brehes to survive,

Porn Is Boring Clickbait titles and a million fake moans,Glossy skin and fluorescent zones.Another “forbidden” tab, same old refrain,Selling cheap thrills, but it’s duller than pain. Perfect bodies in an overlit stage,Every “plot” thinner than my minimum wage.Skip the setup, fast-forward the lies,Even fantasies lose their spark when over-supplied. Porn is boring, it’s the same

Pre-Existing Condition Blues They said the form was seven pages long, the fine print twelve,They said my claim was under review, please help yourself,The operator’s voice was warm and smooth as motor oil,She said we value your concern and left me there to toil,The deductible is thirty thousand, co-pay’s twenty more,The specialist’s not in-network, but

Polite Teeth I shake your hand like a contract, firm and clean, my smile a spotless lieWhile something feral counts your heartbeat,and quietly decides why you should cryI nod at all the right moments, I praise your plan, I bless your little schemeThen I bite the inside of my cheek till I taste the truth

Pillow Talk Ain’t Soft After round one she rolled over and started telling me,About round two in terms so graphic I could see,The whole thing projected on the ceiling of my mind,She said I want you from behind and I want it unkind. She said I have been thinking about sitting on your face all