The weather forecast of my mother tongue
I fish them out every evening, lay them down
Category Poetry and Prose Contest
to Tim in lieu of flowers
tragedy strikes the exhausted soul who stops to rest
Remains
And is God not a manacle
Testament
And is God not a manacle
Calling Home
my father prays on a fraying mat
American Math
A moth kept hitting glass. I watched it lose.
That Night
A moth kept hitting glass. I watched it lose.
Crooked Love
Air hangs from his mouth and she locks it into place
Dirty Kitchen
Pork liempo drenched with toyo and suka this tender
Negotiating Salvation
I asked God to make me glorious. I do not deserve this ache.