Day #12

Inheritance

after Cassandra de Alba

Slivers of soap marking years like tree rings
fused into a pillar;

a collection of clown figurines glowering
over the duct-taped couch;

glass, marble, and plastic eggs
embossed with Florida
and Eloise;

jars caked in ancient dust, a coffee can rattling
baby teeth, yellowed newspapers barking
the end of the war

one day
all of this can be yours

NaPoWriMo Update

So I’ve been writing a lot, but most pieces I’ve been working on are intensely personal. I have elected to leave them off of the internet.

Something I’m doing differently this NaPo around is reading actual books of poetry to supplement my own writing. Matthew Olzmann’s Mezzanines, Kristen Stone’s Domestication Handbook, and Natasha Trethewey’s everything have really helped get my blood pumping.

Day #3

Funeral for Home

Watercolor paper stacked
rough as old hands–
heater grates open
to a desert.

Florence Boulevard smolders
in inch-deep volcano ash–
thick merlot carpet
petrifies like bone.

A ghost kicks dirt
in the basement. Long
hairs drizzle the bathtub.

Hornets lull the dead,
fruit drops and worms feast.