song in the backyard: a golden shovel for Rihanna (audio only)
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black love
my love is black though my love is not black ::
think the darkness cradling the milky way ::
imagine quick light flowing down the back
of my throat, glowing—i swallow the day ::
2023
job prescription
will poetry change the world? no one asks
this about football, the thrill of watching or
playing. we get that nurses & doctors are
healers. no question that rabbis, priests, &
imams guide individuals & groups through
spiritual thickets. we don’t tell cooks to put
down their wooden spoons & go make a real
2024
color bleeding
one year, i carried the blues around
like a baby. sure, my coffee mugs cupped
amethysts :: water gushed, rose-tinted
and -scented, from the faucets at my touch ::
the air orange with butterflies that never
left me. meanwhile, indigo held fast
to my toes :: lapis lapped my fingertips ::
2019