No one to judge me but myself. No one to please or rubric criteria to meet. Just me, the ducks, the trees, the water, and my camera. Click. Swoosh. Quack.
loose harvest
In another life, I was edible
flowers. I wore a fitted baby tee
that said tubular. It came to define
me. Fingerling sounds dirty—name of a...
Eulogyafter a song by Tool
If I can’t cry for you, how can I cryfor myself? Someday, they’ll find you,lightning burned tongue, wings long pawned,liver...
Preserves
I have an urge to preservetoday, boil the remaining fruitsto their sticky sugars, remove
the pits and seeds, smash fleshadd pectin and lemon juice, pourand...
