we wake up and make love
you laugh about buying
duck eggs from the farmstand
Category Poetry
Last Rites
Billions of snakes
deep throating themselves into oblivion.
Insurmountable
Mountains can block clouds, peak so high rain can’t climb them
Sorrel Soft Serve
fat red flowers, tomato toast
Misophonia, or How To Be Trans & Be Quiet
Imagine my gender
did not belong to the highest bidder.
Last Summer
she squints, pausing only to wipe the sheen from her black brow
On 17 February, 1999
she birthed me- her first son, laying in a cot under a leaking roof
lunar new year
my mouth is a boat
flooded with green tea
Saris by the Seaside
My mother matches her beauty mark with her kumkuma
The Day After Martin Luther King’s Assassination
A tearful Darlene asks, “Why do they hate us?”