Poems: The beekeeper
From the back of my Highlander, with its new-car smell, the screened pine boombox hums in harmony: Mozart on the radio jamming the song of ten thousand bees and one queen. They call it a package of bees or three pounds of bees, Whatever, it’s all the same now: Explosive cargo in my rearview mirror.…
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Poems: Las flores de Lolita
Lolita’s hands are soft, brown, and clean, carrying the knife with such ease in the chopping that the blade melts the cebolla into fine minced white, like the crushed ice in last night’s curated cocktail…
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Poems: What Serena couldn’t say
Serena keeps words like secrets. She hides them in her pockets and drawers, and in more obvious places, like under her tongue and behind her lovely little ears.
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the gallery
photography & visual stories
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the writing
middle-grade fiction & more
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Series: All Green is Gold
Series: Flying Girl
Poems: The beekeeper
From the back of my Highlander, with its new-car smell, the screened pine boombox hums in harmony: Mozart on the radio jamming the song of ten thousand bees and one queen. They call it a package of bees or three pounds of bees, Whatever, it’s all the same now: Explosive cargo in my rearview mirror.…
Read More
Poems: Las flores de Lolita
Lolita’s hands are soft, brown, and clean, carrying the knife with such ease in the chopping that the blade melts the cebolla into fine minced white, like the crushed ice in last night’s curated cocktail…
Read More
Poems: What Serena couldn’t say
Serena keeps words like secrets. She hides them in her pockets and drawers, and in more obvious places, like under her tongue and behind her lovely little ears.
Read More