My Great Grandmother in the Kitchen

  She watches me, her transparent face reflecting in panes of glass, echoing in gas…

Upon Viewing my Daughter Drowning as a [Continuous Loop]

the   water  is   deafness pulling         a      …

The Eternal Pursuit of the Whale’s Song

My fiancé Simon, my mother, and I boarded Air Hawaii from the Houston Intercontinental Airport…

The choices we make

She said to me the word is sacred; in the beginning, there was el verbo.…

Poor Things

Rita uncoiled a length of twine and looked up at the cloudless April sky. The…

Tita Norma Wore a Headscarf

Two hunched-over, broken-down, little old brown ladies amble up your block. Their wrinkled heads wrapped…

poet: rigor mortis, zombies, & dehumanization

  after Night of the Living Dead (1968), 1:34:35, directed by George A. Romero and…

Safety in Numbers

 “You know, baby,” Griffith said as he took a long toke, sitting up so his…

A Talent for Packing

  We grab the bags, half filled, again. Let the shame we own shade us…