Poetry

Sand Dollar

my mother cracks it open to show me the little doves inside

Mine

Coming home. A dog sometimes. Desire. Living.

eros

it’s two am and we’ve decided / we might be God. we’ve decided

Holtz Children's Hospital, 2022

I still think it’s worth a shot. I’ll think of / tulips, of Plath.

Aubade with frat flu

There’s another version of this in which we / wake up in this beautiful light, follow / songbirds to class.

2AM Sonnet About Anne Marie Oomen as God

I hold a shovel, ask if this is real, / like essays. She says sure.

inside you there are two wolves

yes, you're supposed to lean back on the glasscold mirror, covering one eye with hydrantorange hair so flatironed and stinking of sulfur.