“Going up”, I smile scooping her toddling legs onto my shoulders. Her fingers grip a week’s worth of whiskers. As a grey March wind sweeps yesterday’s transfers and ticket stubs into the fault lines of an unimportant West Loop sidewalk. “Going up”, she smiles as the elevator lifts us 103 stories. Above dilated office windows …
Category Archives: Poem
Caught
Tangled in the netting of a deep blue hammock spiral jetties of sun-bleached curls shade the eyes of a sleeping mermaid in pink water wings.
Not My Children
The clock hangs over the kitchen door interrupting every thought. The refrigerator blocks the path humming inappropriately loud. The ice maker feeling left out collapses onto the floor. Two mismatched Crocs under the dishwasher conspire.
knuckles
mother has a hard time texting i can see it in her knuckles she wants someone else to handle these things
Morning Breath
This morning I found hidden on the coarse carpeting of a fashionable hotel room’s floor between the taxi horn’s bleats between the police siren’s wails between Broadway and 8th Avenue between inhale and exhale one still moment.