Aged fif­teen I dream of mush­room clouds and blind­ing light tra­cing bone skel­et­ons in ash on foot­paths. Every night I burn like a shak­ing monk like a 9‑year-old napalm-backed like a woman like a wife. Every night my screams etch white-hot run­nels onto eye­lids that…

I am mired in tendrils of regret Borne of moments and cold mid­nights Drunken decisions and bad sex. I read ‘daddy’ in the bath In the silent pre-dawn Curls of steam vying With death and depres­sion. Sylvia, your edges are Trans­lu­cent as lamp­shades. You are my mirror,…

i want toledo to be my mis­sis­sippi river i will come back to her over and over call her beloved whis­per her name in the night wrap myself in her dark­nesses caress her there in the even­ings under the moon wade in her damp­nesses suckle under her fruit­ing branches…

for Emilie Zoey Baker (EZB), after hear­ing her per­form Sweet Cowboy with Sean M Whelan she’s honey warm, liquid, mel­li­flu­ous i want to drown in her golden intens­ity if i could get my tongue unstuck i’d tell her she’s poured into that denim her cow­girl smile undoes me…

do i know you from some­where? your hand in mine sudden like a memory your bright eyes, clear as crisp days I am caught in a loop of three moments in your office on my couch and long ago in a forest “it still feels odd to shake your hand,” you say, echoes of it,…