Poetry

I wasn’t with my sister that day, days, delivered, the last day I would have seen my father. She took an elephant to get to the hot brimming tree land. The soup

Try to make sense of what happened when you were alive: Where was there justice? How hot were the breezes in August? Where were the altars? To whom was the sacrifice offered? Who

Headed out of Colorado our rental dash told us we needed air. We pulled into a national park gas station and found help. His mother or supervisor was setting up the coffee machine

Four summers back I saw myself breaking my hand against a man’s face, interrupting a word so certain and raw I would not listen, and my fist named him a liar. But