This Morning
“I’m always naked," the Finnish one giggles as she hunches over and grabs her clothes, shimmying backwards into the bathroom,
her breasts dangling
poetry
Widows Walk
Standing on the widows walk
she could see the children playing
the tops of their heads
combed flaxen silk, a perfect part.
That was her,
Penny Lions
As a child she gazed at the penny lions,
slotted metal creatures
disappear behind hidden folding doors.
The scene was made merry by the bulbs
Prying Moon
Sweet, prying moon
all silver and lace.
where last midsummer
did you find her?
She loves to watch you fall
a token of promise,
surely
The Trickster Witch Part 2: Juan Aldama
There’s a dark energy there
we held her close, kept her warm
night after night, while the terror
spread like pigment on wet glass