The Fruit Hopes That Each Seed Will End Far From Its Own Body
“because it knows just how unfortunate it is / to die in the shadow of something greater / than itself”
I don't want to have sex because my body feels dead
“no body-illusion left in these flat layers / in my sodden tissue, everything said of trace / thins distance, lines unassertively drawn depths”
Interbeing
“In this trembling network, / I am no longer; we thicken / with restless porosity—/ otherwise known as love”
ode to an adolescent niece
“you’re blazing / hot pink-orange, / an angry sunrise / through wildflower smoke”
Games for Children and Keith Wilson’s Experiments With Flight
“There’s obvious risk to including both a childlike wonder and a grim political reality in one book of poetry"