Saturday, 2018
THE BAYOU WHICH ISN’T VERY FULL RIGHT NOW / TRICKLING PAST REEKING LIKE GALVESTON WATER
Poetry
Atomic Pink Summer
We must strike while the iron is hot pink!
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.