The other half of me craves nature, Turns up their nose at the grey Minnesota spring. But me, I'm happy with the patchwork The swathes of...

You beautiful little saviors Scored down the middle like sourdough loaves Tempering the storm that brews in my brain Composing brash...

You overworked and overwrought student Grasping at joys as small as a bargain bin fountain pen Smudging your decade of laboring With an...

You line your nests with strips of cloth Stars and stripes of nylon comfort, That you'll choke down before you cross the bridge, Like we...

A trio of obscene haiku Sparkling and mind-numbed The body sings with static And begs you to move. What is this except An animal mind...

Brunch is my thanksgiving, my bacchanal. It is a lovely occasion to be able to lie in, and still convince your friends that you have...

The space behind a bookshelf is an aperture Floor to ceiling concealing a place to fold your salted secrets Into old paper and leather...

Let me be a shape shifter in your name Your name hand-formed like a clay pot

Touching the brown earth Wishing for green and flowers Minnesota spring

Dizzy, whirling Warmth on the third eye as snow melts and drips Twinkling lights shot across like comets I can't think See, hear The...

Blue-gray walls and builder-grade carpet Flat-pack pine and a mirrored closet Plastic bins in lieu of dressers From the omnipresent...

The white wax bakery bag Plopped on my desk wordlessly waiting For a moment when I can start breathing again, And stop seething. The...

In therapy today I raised my therapist's eyebrows by saying that I feel like there's something absurd about human interactions and...

That's National/Global Poetry Writing Month. These are rules I'm setting for myself for my engagement in the poem-a-day challenge this...

In preparation for the coming month, I did what I'm sure a lot of young poets do and went searching for prompts, paralyzed by the idea of...

As my searing menstrual cramps rouse me at 2am for the third moon cycle in a row --oh yeah, this is one of those poems-- I channel my...

My love with hair like dusted copper And eyes like this Isle’s emeralds Bids me home in one ear as the other listens To elders singing of...

The crunch of breaking bread Over your own table, The crumbs spilling To litter your plate for later You wonder if the mirror on the wall...