Yum Cha

Let’s drink tea, Dad. I worry about your health. I do not think you could give me your kidney like you promised. If we were medieval, you’d have a forge working late nights early mornings stumbling to sleep in the afternoon and it all looks so romantic until the shadows of tree branches grow over Read More …

I’ll say what I mean one day

“I’m an artist with a certain special something, and that something makes me really, really sad because of nothing.” — Hobo Johnson Everything hurts beautifully sometimes across from you, I’m confined solitarily to this counter chair, shaking ‘til I fall onto the diner’s vinyl tile. Let me draft my words to you on this napkin Read More …

where I’ve never been

I know these fossils should be buried, but the dinosaurs were only on the ground for a little bit. Everything of mine can be buried. I’d swallow the earth and all its famine to say hello. Don’t worry, I can handle this earthquake underneath me next to you. Where’s the stage? I’m only acting alone. Read More …

Perm

You stretched like a leaf that couldn’t tear Carried a home, a neighborhood, a continent strapped all in chickenwire on your back Purple-headed death got your mother, even your granddaughters before they’d sprung like constellations But miraculous shamwow, you kept absorbing You lifted me and yours like a grim-faced whirlybird rising out of Katrina waters, Read More …