Plan to marry

Go to the county records office

Wait in line until the security guard beckons you

Raise your right hand and swear to an apathetic clerk

Raise your right hand and turn eyes at your partner

Use white out to correct

Use white out to correct incorrect form data

Learn that you cannot keep your maiden name and add a new one

Mourn that familiar designation’s good sound

Repeat your new name to yourself

Your partner’s father has be...

A crop circle is

a pattern created by


a crop

Some vessel arrives and lays the crop flat, leaves

the soil untouched

            These events are deemed hoaxes

chalked up to natural causes

and only the crazy think them

communication, signs from alien travelers


To not accept a 'no' as a 'no' is a kind of violence

or for her, a kind violence.

She calls me 'baby' & just like that,

my name & its course lineage is devoured

in the love talk of monsters.

What she wouldn't give

to get her mouth around me.

Something malleable.

Like a petting zoo,

she offers me a government of flowers

buries hand grenades beneath,

keeps the pins under her tongue.

To give in to something so ruthless & manicured,

her archae...

mostly i’m ashamed to have forgotten that these niggas like to dabble

in me. he came and i was reckless with my magic as if it were my blood.

afterward, the endless sailed in on swift hips. the world bowled

splits down the lane of me by the minute. men arrived unlubed

without apology while the pillowcase still stank of his head’s fabled

frequency. i was thirsty and then i was threadbare. i bawled

onto strangers’ jaws through pores i...

When you told me that someone else helped you bind during our time apart, I was jealous. Though you never said you wanted to do that when I was near you, years ago, I penned a poem about binding a lover. It was a memory of a previous relationship but instead of him I imagined you. Every detail of the poem is your body. I wish I could remember the day I wrote it. Did you bind some time in January of 2009? No matter now. I works...

Beautiful questions for the war poem to host:

Who among us could weave one ghost

into another? Where find water hosted

beyond the tulip’s snapped back and tilted

cup? How count the escaped’s speed by silt

dragged from one ruin to another? Wilt,

sings the sky’s day fabric unwoven into grayscale

as though night could goad from a star a paler

face, but when night arrives on the felled

back of a mule winged on either side by baskets

of wate...

Please reload