A graduate of Harvard and more recently of UC Irvine, Leah continues to teach writing and write in Irvine, wandering its wide, over-planned streets in search of some action. She's trying to get her first manuscript published, and in the meantime you can see some work in "Lo-Ball", upcoming in "Catch Up", and elsewhere.
there are comeheres from the oranged, lit street, from the hilled and hump-browed wood above. silvering dam, concrete lines swiveling out; by these mills the hulled dusk shredding, stamped with porticos, and slabs, and stories of light. but paper-winged, boxed as origami: these sights shrugged like water: where is that generator you used to have, the heavy-bottomed the electric… Read more →
She swallowed me, when we were young; or sidled like a shoplifter, over, till our outlines joined. Sometimes I vibrate just above her body, so she can feel the air move through her spaces. And when she can’t talk about her parents’ wills, or panics before a trip, when her heart breathes drab flashes of fear through a body so… Read more →
Starbucks makes these Starbucks-green plastic devices that you think are stirrers at first, or sandwich picks, drink-garnishes topped with a smooth curve of green mermaid etch, and sometimes there might be that ragged-sharp middle edge where plastic tore imperfectly from its mold, and you can see the green plastic trays they snap out of at the factory, but after you… Read more →