I saw god at the dentist’s, splattered on the chair– a discarded fish head. Jaw forced open, eyes closed shut.
Postmortem of a Fish – Editor’s Pick
bear market; turnsole; small gust (the butterfly effect); astronautilus (expansion); spit or swallow
no connection left
Palate Poems
I didn’t know how to tell you I hated you, Never was I good with words, it’s true. So I made a cake.
Travel Poems
The gift shop near the room where the family of a dead son gathers offers crosses, prayer books, icons, beads and jar upon jar of dried herbs and flowers gathered by the monks from slopes that surround, petals of the past as brittle as the remnants of faith forged in ancient hillsides.
Kin where kin are; The Armoury; Last Rights; Nota Bene; Playing in the Wind
Grandad read me manga, tales rendered in Chinese ideograms that made no sense, on the settee exploring a black-white world, antics of a time-travelling genie-bot.
The children we won’t have; How my life compares to that of Bonnie Parker; Bob Lucy’s apple juice; An evening with Messier 13; Tri tri try
I wake at 3:00 a.m. and fry two eggs until they burn. My husband sleeps upstairs. He used to photograph my eyelids, knuckles, fine bones of my pelvis.