[tabby title="Poem"] Flatter than a quarterleft one a train track,I tried to typeabout my 42nd birthday cake,but instead of sweetening the pagewith metaphorical icing,I ended up staring at the blank whitenessand felt the weight of wordscrush me,until this poem rose...

[tabby title="Poem"] Days marching by like an armydaydreaming about death,while we hide in our cellars,french-kissing peace,only to realize how toothlesslove can be when we're alone,fantasizing enoughto make our feet go to sleep,and the bombs prove they're realby separating arms from...

[tabby title="Poem"] Lying in bed at 10:47 AMwith the lights on,reading a dead man's letters,hoping to get an answer for the waymy cold knees hide under blankets,whispering failures about attempts at warmth,but it has been worse, but also better-my body...