Crunch
The crunch of the snow beneath my feet sounds like my ears scraping across my pillow. Am I dreaming? I place my hands deep into the...
I’m never eating strawberries again
there’s a pit in my stomach it’s grown into a strawberry the spiders that live in it climb into my empty lungs turning the trees in my...
there is fire
i got caught in the undertow of spring a shithole backyard burning rubber a red wheelbarrow with unbolted hinges my grandfather...
Living or Dead Things
In the early dawn, drawn from sleep, I snake through dewy grass. Light gleams off of these fresh blades, in the foreground of the...
After Hanif Abdurraqib
There’s something visually poetic about a man sleeping under a shrine of himself what good will your vanity do you? what good will...
