Published Poetry

Appeared in Pearl Fall/Winter 2010


I’m from eighteen year old bodies in the backseat
of a borrowed car
I’m from homemade half pipes skated from 1980 to 1988
I’m from sponge curlers and aquanet hairspray
I’m from the wrong side of town and you looking at me, bitch
I’m from carnivals and bumper cars
and 3 ticket ferris wheels
I’m from foreign parents and broken english
I’m from Catholic school uniforms and peace be with yous
I’m from my mother’s words
            he is never going to change
            he is not good enough
            he is not he is not        
I’m from girls in bathrooms and fingers down throats
I’m from I will always and you nevers
I’m from french kissing and second base
I’m from clothes in cardboard boxes in studio
            apartments and macaroni and cheese dinners
I’m from secrets scribbled in diaries
            please forgive me
            please forget me
I’m from name droppers with so and so and what’s his face
I’m from single mothers and cooking dinner for baby brothers
I’m from I love you I hate you I love you I hate you I love you I 

Appeared in SLM 3.2, Fall 2009, The "Families" Issue

Her Side of the Bed

is cool
calming in the way
a mother’s hand feels
against a fever.

Her pillows smell like lavender,
a remedy to help her sleep.

She has tried warm milk
Chamomile teas in handmade mugs
the Rosary
whispered to the ceiling.

Sleeping pills provide
a few hours
of dreamless sleep,
in the darkness of her eyelids.

She prefers
the solitude of rest

to the company
of the stranger

on his side of the bed.

Appeared in Lexicon Polaroid
I’ve Worn my Mother’s Ashes

little pieces of her flesh

i’ve cried the same tears
and have bitten the same nails

she pushed her fears
into my lungs

guided her pain
down my throat

into my heart
and spread it through my bones

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...