Selected Poetry

I clean your nails, I use jojoba to massage your hand.

The pope invites me to the sistine chapel. "Can you do some touch-ups for me? We think you can brighten the space."

I see this girl working bar, she's in a corset and dark jeans and she's got this first-day grin like she just joined the crew at Disneyland.

And on the cold wet sloshed curb

by the steel shop, at the corner where I’ve just crashed

my father’s secondhand Volkswagen Tiguan...

I tell her you are like a field of

marigolds at sunset Jesus Christ

as I recover from watching her cum.

Your kisses are still 

smooth river rocks...

When my husband left I lost thirty pounds.