My poetry collection, Mortal, the third in a trilogy of books about grief and love, has been published by Black Cat Moon Press. To order books, open links below. (Books will
We drive to Sacred Stone Camp SUVS, trucks, pick-ups from four directions, stand by the sacred medicine rock, touch the side of the mineral’s flank, watch land and water in
For the first time in years I could see the veins on leaves and recognize moles on faces, which was worth wearing a patch and completing a regimen of eye
1. Fruitvale Bridge Park where fresh water mixes with ocean tides, storm drains from Oakland empty into its mouth wide open rents are industrial and zoned cheap, homeless hold out
floating on my back murmurs from the shore a lifeguard’s whistle boogie boards water color red a cloud of seaweed hisses of bubbles dissolve my feet scissors to locksmith time
The old woman who lived in the bottom apartment called me. Her name was Basuma. Freckles covered her hands and arms and made her look like a ripe banana. She