The Girl Who Loves to Clean

The girl had a messy childhood. It was littered with loud noises and tons of shouting. Sometimes these were happy sounds: the scream of excitement tumbling down the

The

Idol said

Taking risks is the most important

Thing an artist can do

waking up with
the desire to lay here
to look around the room
and notice things

What a relief. They brought the dregs up
from the lost and found, a little respite for us all.

i make prices 
i blend into aisles 
i am a bottle of stool softener 

half-empty gel pens used to spawn spiked poems

i am built for harsh weather and dazzling violence

When a cherub grows up, he hates angels.

My friend asks if I believe in / gay marriage

If I have to die, I want to die for love

Mai Knicker

when congress bans our faves we will smuggle them through customs and call it praxis

The solar system running sloppy
down the sides of your vest.

The only noise I hear is the hum of electricity, subtle as the sound of the universe whispering.

Larry David sees me crying about AIDS

I just thirst for barbed wire
 

shadows cast like heaven’s
hands down over her eyes.

When I ran away at fourteen, I didn’t know
I was listening to an animal urge to find my own way, like all
teens

Motioning the stone girl over, she
deadpans, “It’s grenadine, not blood.”

I can’t imagine anything better or worse than whole-hearted devotion.

“I like the way how you wriggle when
Your mind doesn’t agree with your heart”

KS

Our translation of home.

and now i teach street

kids from akron how to

use google docs, and

how to express themselves

What’s your name? Like an oak
I want to carve a heart
into our washing machine.

as all my lovers
fly out of my chest