[tabby title="Poet Bio"] The garden after the scout meeting, a Saturday morning, 2002 Earlier, I gathered firewood- dry sticks and tinder /do not break branchesthat are still alive/ my small hands being taught survival,or sanctity or both. Now, I am...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] We lay in the summer heat,windows open.You asleep, and melistening to the morning prayers from the distant mosquemingling with your deep breaths. I wanted to kiss your knuckles then,caress your hands soft so you’d feelme when you...

[tabby title="Poet Bio"] PART I The first time a man fucked meit was roughand drywith the lights on.The coldest night in December,at a party where I didn’t know anyone. When I was little,I saw my mother cutting up liverand pig’s...