Category Archives: Poetry

in the summer, we search for edges

            feverish & in the aftermath            everything looked the same. only my             tongue, moving over the shadow of a faceless language. time comes to a standstill. august’s mouth  stretched                                     wide open                at night we mistake the dip of the heated valley for … Continue reading

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Mother Says

I wake to acrid vinegar kissed by a tinge of white sugar. the putrid sky reeks of clouds contaminated by ephemeral dreaming. Mother says this is an omen. next day, my breasts swell like honeydew, hips becoming sunken valleys and … Continue reading

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Noonday Field

A stone’s modest shadow cast upon stubby grass and dirt keeps the same silence as the shadow you found in the fold of your napkin at last night’s raucous banquet. It’s there for you alone, once more— earth’s dark door … Continue reading

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Let’s Go

Walk deep in the valley through this blood in the star and say there is god in this small act fumbling mannerisms behind murder scene tar pits your heart is sewn to the family-tree / apple fell far which breaks … Continue reading

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Poem for my Friend in the Time of Pandemics

These are my gifts, my offerings, little mismatched shoes highway slush hitting the tire the mile marker and gone is heavenly when there is a gone to go to see, these are my hands restless birds wingless gagglers mid travel … Continue reading

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A Poem Does What It Can

This will be the last, I tell myself last chop of the onion last tick of the clock how do buried things become blooms I wonder aloud, and then silently I know I know – they do not see their … Continue reading

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Split

Stand in a David Bowie shirt, possibly crying, face sidling. Smell fresh lawn shavings. Dad leans in to whisper something. We’ve recently mastered falling off my bike. He lets go again and again. The dich is a pillow that never … Continue reading

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How To Stay Gay in Quarantine

Every walk a lesson in desire. Others like you move between houses with better gardens. You catch sight of them, in fence slats and the oracle of fallen branches. You all peregrinate in your best feathers and stippled memories. Ramble … Continue reading

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Smallest World

Finding a way and life. Web of soil, words just nature’s bird silent body; petrel flying underwater. From sink to river we go quietly. Adam Day is the author of Left-Handed Wolf (LSU Press, 2020) and Model of a City … Continue reading

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Experience Body

Cut the cream of an auk’s egg. Whale shore – boat’s pilot designed to vanish continuously. Nice teeth, fine hands; wrecked teeth, rough monk’s hands. Adam Day is the author of Left-Handed Wolf (LSU Press, 2020) and Model of a … Continue reading

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Orchestra of Dependence

Twenty-year-old invisible neighbor and his pregnant wife watched death going by; she wasn’t on horseback; she was screaming. Fiddle the moment neighbor’s house is burning. And if the fire lasts a decade, or three, or if the house is down, … Continue reading

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Navy Boy

My boy is a proud navy diver, every time he books in with his dive mask nobility awaits, oceans he would conquer to attain his lieutenant status He would boast of the lives he had saved at sea, the men … Continue reading

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This Is My Name

like most Chinese children, I had my name dictated by a Taoist priest which means my life had already been given its destiny – ancestors who had scattered stars around me each with their own demands, the demands drawn out … Continue reading

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#17

I believe in ghosts, I believe in luck and fate and destiny/I roll the dice whenever I get a chance/sometimes I count out beads on a rosary/I keep hidden/in a drawer/I’ve been to Paris/but I’ve never been/to Berlin/I fucked a … Continue reading

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Federico Garcia Lorca The Night Before Death

The trunk of the young olive tree reminds him of his first boy. It only casts shadows when the poet looks away. It seems embarrassed by the shape of its shadow, but proud of the size. There was a song … Continue reading

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Flight to India

I’m leaving Bahrain with languages under my tongue like pills. I’m asked to open my mouth. Smuggling languages is illegal. I swallow the rest and speak in English. I’m allowed 5 things like Miss G: I pick a half-eaten shawarma, … Continue reading

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Epiphany Poem

It is time to have a new epiphany. Given the circumstances, I find it very unlikely that you will find answers here.             I am very afraid of new beginnings. I want to want you: a new concept. Anonymous, I put … Continue reading

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Miracle Poem

I look for miracles where there should be none: a sort of everyday violence. I turn over stones, move the sofa to see what is underneath. I am tired of looking; still I feel that someone should be doing it. … Continue reading

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Poem About Various Kinds Of Leaving

I am trying to stay organized. I am staying inside during the hottest part of the day. I am memorizing proverbs: where there’s smoke, there’s fire, and other wisdoms. I am learning the parts of an idiom. You are making … Continue reading

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Mercy Poem

I am no longer alone on this city road.             I am learning my lines; quick, say them back to me. I am smaller than I look, don’t be fooled. I am showing, not telling. I am tracing the bones of … Continue reading

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Future Poem

I am contemplating the year 3000. I am looking for lost rabbits. I am collecting loose change. The eye of God looks in on us; we look back at it with open mouths. I am thinking about the nature of … Continue reading

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Purgatory Poem

I am caught between a rock and a hard place. I could say that I loved you, but then I’d have to kill you. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. You are cross-country. I am counting my blessings. To … Continue reading

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Vanishing Point

I worry I’m eating too much—and not enough—of the right things. There is not enough here to sustain me. What a girl learns at 12 will follow her to 23 and beyond. I first learned your name at 19. I … Continue reading

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Soliloquy Poem

I no longer get any pleasure out of sleeping. Still, it’s something to do. Desire cuts like a knife, wide open calves and thighs waiting for you to come out of your hole on the West Coast. You hem and … Continue reading

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Lying Poem

I long to attend a witch-burning.             I want to see the fires crack and fizz. Who will they choose next? Will it be me? I want to see fireworks.             I want to crawl out of my own skin and feel … Continue reading

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