impression
through my eyelids yellow wall of sun was I in the drawing room from the book turning my head this way on instruction from
voice or lightthe flower... Read More.
these things now for my companions i shall sing beautifully
what would queer visions of the family network look like? what are queer visions of the longevit... Read More.
say: here here: hear still: hours bud until split stretches: a body out screams opening : a wound : an eye in: the throat : gazing : itself at its root
/
The hands of the clock strangle my neck. Each hour, a rueful sigh.
I haven't done anything good today.
People enjoy your being, says my therapist, as much as ... Read More.
in the epoch of biodiversity dwindle is a vestigial ritual. We use our fists to carry the heaviest things. I can still feel thick smoke from the refineries in my throat. In this city of pollutant speckling the wide blue sky like rows of needlewater, acid rain falls slant.
[...lakeside…] Against Passivity For the sake of this poem as a citable document, I’ll name just the one breath this time hurled solitary across a magnetic sample of sky [...Branta canadensis…]
Reading in Carceral Tense Vignettes of/with the Russian Dictionary of Imperial and Soviet Prison Slang
“It seemed that the incommensurable gap between the Sovie... Read More.
This is a Body and this body is this thing of terror—how in this world every woman is a survivor and every survivor is a knife hardened by sorrow and dread, how... Read More.
If my father is my arbiter, then it’s just as well; I am boundto follow him in my duty as his daughter. I am no woman, though, in his image I was made. What do... Read More.
The Jungle Book: Epilogue
I. I’ve been lying for a long time, so let me tell you a story.We can never go back to who we were, despite the bravadoof the dog qua... Read More.
for Oluwatoyin Salau, for Breonna Taylor, for Cyntoia Brown, for Tameka Drummer, for Anjanette Young, for all of us whose names I wish had first floated from m... Read More.
This country is motherless and makes me forget I am not. Two weeks or more since a call. To be in America, You must see American, close your eyes and dream Ame... Read More.
Every morning the sparrows sing
Every day there is another funeral
I am a fraud
A mouth is always open: 口
The tongue declares itself: زبان
... Read More.
The Coop in August
The form asks for my job. Stay-at-home-parent, a response given by the dozen, lands wrong these months. I hold a prism over the words, bendth... Read More.
