Husks
Steam whispers from the stove. You and I shuck corn, ripping away husks, revealing ears and ears. It was always summer then. Then there were no more summers. Drop them into the water. They do not know enough to scream.
Sabzi Mandi
It’s noon, grandma’s on the cot, next to the wall next to the window, peeling hot potatoes, her swollen feet blue, smell of her half-dry sari in the closed room, al dente dreams, parts you can’t chew, grandma’s white teeth uncooked corn, her nose-ring catches and spits light you sleep head on her chest past five at the Sabzi… Read more →
The Plagues
of water turning to blood the pink tornados in the porcelain,reminds me of time. hourglasssand pouring out of me. the blush,dusty rose. perpetual empty, the slowpendulum swing of fear when the waterstays clear to fear when it doesn’t. of frogs of squelch of wet smack of deep gut throatof expand retract release of slipslide on mother’skitchen tile of pink tongue… Read more →
Autumn Leaf
“I hope I can be the autumn leaf, who looked at the sky and lived. And when it was time to leave, gracefully it knew life was a gift.” ~ Dodinsky Robins scream at the sky as ifto steal daylight, whose shadows crossthe Dubuque Riverwalk, whereI hold an autumn leaf to the heavens:gilded translucency brightensthe edges of my fingertips likesunlight… Read more →
Fire Beetles
Their skin is the black ash of paper —they skim the still burning woods for a place to nest. I like to think of themlike a friend who can sense a crisis from a continent away: shefinds the breaking apart and blackening of a body eaten by its own heat and seesa place to grow. Their teeth have the hold… Read more →
Roaches and Jasmine
The jasmine under my backyard oaks is blooming. Thick, dirtyground cover and reaching white blossoms, like pinwheels, stir the air.The breeze carries their scent to our cocoons, our bodies curledtoward one another in separate cerulean hammocks. We pinch timeand pass joints rolled tight by your hands, much bigger than mine.Hands that didn’t help me hang the blue hammocks between the… Read more →
The Dream of Saraswati
The sun spins its slow circle of beam upon her left hand. She smiles, an echo of the waning crescent moon. her hair brushes the stream. she lays her palm flat upon the water as it moves a wave up to reach her, a furl, the curve of a note. the air is warm with dirt. in cloud-speak a message… Read more →
Nature’s Perfect Food
Your aunt’s blind dog Patsy turns corners in your sleep. Patsy felt her way around, the way an egg will curl against the corner of a pan. Now you doubt this is your memory at all, embraced and protected in a thin carton of scrambled images. Move and the egg spins inside of you. One turn with the spatula and… Read more →
Lotto
For Jesse Jesse was the youngest boy of thirteen boys and I was the youngest girl of eight one quiet childless house groaning between ours as we teemed from the windows and made smears of our fingerprints on the glass Jesse had an imaginary friend and it told him to key all the cars on our street pour sugar into… Read more →
How Weary I Have Become
Let me be a monster, or a child. Does not play well with others. Let me be cruel for once; owner of the ferocious dog, unapologetic of its snarl. I, too, am feral. I, too, have teeth that sink into animal. Let me tell the truth, risk losing you for good. I have earned this darkness. Paid for it with… Read more →