2014 · Publications

East Jasmine Review Volume 2 Issue 1

East Jasmine Review V.2.1The newest issue of East Jasmine Review is available now! I have three poems in this issue, “Words in Stone and Liquid”, “The Truth of My Skin”, and “The First Her”. I am honored to share these pages with some of my favorite poets, Charlotte San Juan, Clifton Snider, John Brantingham, Mary Torregrossa, Thomas R. Thomas, Elmast Kozloyan, and K. Andrew Turner! Over 100 pages of poetry, fiction, and nonfiction in three eco-friendly formats: Kindle, ePub, and PDF for the low cost of $4.50!

The first two poems of mine will also be in my upcoming collection, All the Tiny Anchors.

Anchors (Poetry with Music) · Recordings · The Unnamed Algorithm

Skin As Thick As Walruses Recording

 

img047“Skin As Thick As Walruses”, along with “White Sandals”, is included in the anthology Disorder: Mental Illness and Its Affects published by Red Dashboard now available. I feel extremely honored to be a part of this anthology since this issue is very near to my heart.

Before you buy your very own copy, you can listen to a recording done with BobKat. Bobby Cuff selected music they had prerecorded and without any planning or previewing, we recorded this track in one take. The timing was magical. I hope you will enjoy.

Listen here.

2000s · Healing the Heart of Ophelia · Poetry

July 1970

for my mother at 20

You seemed taller in the trees
Hair parted hanging long as limbs
How high did you climb then
How long did you remain
among the leafless branches
Twenty year old girl
Newly mothered
You must feel young smiling
Quilted dress does not stop you
You stand up and lean over down
It is dusk on another day
You swing— arms open— in the forest
Fingers spread wide
Thick red cardigan
You must feel free
I only knew you this way
Homemade dresses and open-toed shoes
You hated feeling closed in
You did come back for her
You must have known
As the woods grew dark
A new decade was upon you
A chance to begin again
The mountain air, crisp
I imagine, filled your lungs slow
Head tilted back as you swing
Back, smiling, and
Swing forward

First appeared in Healing the Heart of Ophelia.
Recently published on Cadence Collective.

2010s · Poetry

My Mother Taught Me

By direct or indirect means
things my mother taught me are

that makeup isn’t that important
that shoes can often constrain you
warning signs can be challenges
and walls are meant for climbing

that authority must be questioned
that no one is really in charge here
elevator buttons must all be pushed
and puddles must be stepped in

that fancy restaurants are too serious
that dancing and singing heals the soul
school and work will still be around
even when you take the days off

that clothes are mostly functional
that limits are mostly imaginary
how pets are better than some humans
and the end is just around this corner

that children can still teach us things
that the emperor isn’t wearing clothes
we make funny faces when we’re angry
and to keep only things that lighten the load

5-12-13

2010s · Poetry · Unanchored

How He Is Not My Child

I didn’t stay up at the hospital until three a.m. waiting for the
doctors to assess the situation. I didn’t have to be the one to
sign papers for the insurance company, for permission to treat,
for release of legal responsibility. I didn’t have to field the
calls, protect him from his mother, sit next to him for hours
under the cold florescent lights of anger. I did not bare the
weight of pen on paper to surrender my flesh and blood to the
intervention of complete strangers. I am not the parent
deciding always how much to force him to wake up early, get
up out of bed, and live his life, or how much to let him sleep,
let him fail classes, let him learn from his own mistakes like a
boy on the verge of adulthood. I didn’t watch the labor of
sixteen years calling out from rooftops for men in uniforms to
pull him down, dress his wounds, search for more weapons.

8-10-13
Originally published on Cadence Collective, 10-15-13