I open my window to thick heavy air That feels like cement dust, or ashes, or cotton It’s clumpy and sticks to …

I am painting rivers with my toenails so I stand in dry rock beds smearing life back into crevasses  that crack and …

Does there even exist for me a person with whom to share a  deep mutual respect  and understanding encapsulated by a  fevered …

A hot dog with just a little bit of mustard color sprayed the sky in gusts and flailing fire “do you have …

I I bash myself in the kneecaps daily with a shiny steel hammer I am in love with one who does not …

Its hard moving bricks one at a time. Bending over with aches in my back and callouses on my hands I am …

*Written in Gasworks Park in Seattle. The rule was that the phrase “coffee beans spilling noisily” had to be someplace in the …

This poem was written in a botanical garden in Ghana, West Africa. The challenge from a friend was to use the phrase …

Skipping through fields I dance with the sun Or she dances with me… I don’t know which, and who cares about that? …

The trees breathe on the streets And the streetlamps burning gold In frosty shadows Distant cats brawl And glass bottles break Loud …