poems about the spiritual weight of hard shell tacos
Pete Holby
My sense of regret is the dog
you remember with immense fondness
but that you no longer know.
My sense of regret is the dog
you remember with immense fondness
but that you no longer know.
Caitlyn, let me take that hair / in my own hands and curl it down your back.
The Dinosaur of Wyoming
I was never born a hermaphrodite. But I tell this story where I am born a hermaphrodite. And anyone listening after I get to the part when the gynecologist asks if
Untitled One
Motherhood slept astonished as astronomers wept so-so-ago with this sort of blow. This sort of ovary, yo, the story being if thrown into something sombrous, spokes-of-light, it
I know you toss out untouched leftovers, and miss them.
When you leave the comment that I am "such a good mom"
under a picture I have posted of my child online,
it freaks me out.
You haven't seen me in over twenty years,
and have never met
1. board the T heading downtown to get to the swan pond / check your phone absently / remember
how so many people needed your attention last month that it made you want to
When we consume ourselves, of course / we think no one cares enough to watch.
Baseball Players I Remember (I Watched Baseball 1-4 Years as a Child. I Collected Cards. My Favorite Team Was The Braves)
Ron Gant. I remember he bent his knees
in a weird, intriguing way
I trace the windup with my elbow, my arm like a wing
unfurling, red lace licking off my feathertips.
Is this new relationship self-sabotage in disguise, or is it the cure?
Garielle's longest, most peculiar, most particularized book. A sure-to-be collector's item. Not be be missed!