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Dobbs v. Jackson Tasting Menu
the pamplemousse / has finished rotting / everyone’s sky / under my french nails
Pottery Royalty
On my third day in East Liverpool, I walked into an antique store on a narrow street that climbed gently up from the Ohio River. Its neighbors were a boarded-up auto repair shop and a Christian bookstore, open but deserted. The sidewalks were empty, with grass growing in the cracks.
Two Poems from “My Sponsor Told Me to Break Plates”
Either I will fall asleep or I will not. / If I fall asleep either I will dream vividly or I will not.
Flesh and Bone Zuihitsu
They think it’s been months since my mom tried to contact me. / The cousins say she’s reaching out to connect. I say it’s been years / of you are such a bitch and this whole family is done with you.
Like Qafia to Radif
my lover’s eyes sing patterns of rhyme, but for me it’s those lips. / Fleshy enjambment where I end–stop, the perfect couplet, those lips.
Dish With Bamboo Leaves
So I am trying to make sense of / this world; why my mother throws out / anything that shows any sign of / chipping; why she / insists on buying porcelain, or / keep the jagged / blue-glazed pieces of hollowed clay.
Two Poems from “When the Wind talks to Us”
My name is Ketia / Not Katia, Kesha or Keisha / There’s no S so don’t let the T tease ya / into thinking otherwise
Three Translations from Rainer Maria Rilke’s Book of Hours
I often pray at night: be mute, / who remains washing in gestures, / and whom the spirit drives in dreams, / that he writes the heavy sum of silence / on foreheads and mountains.
Power Save
People will surprise you sometimes, and not because it’s your birthday or anniversary or because you were promoted at work. They surprise you without saying, “surprise!” Sometimes they mean you harm and sometimes they’re merely incompetent.
Birth of the Blues
Were the blues born on sultry evenings under canopies of stars? / Come into this world between dark southern thighs / while our enslaved ancestors dance to strumming banjos, wailing mouth harps, / and ancient rhythms of violins, tambourines, and drums?
I’m in a good mood
I’m in a good mood / for being spiteful. Tacos: / tongue and head-meat. I want / to feel a little cannibalistic / though not.
Two Poems from “What the Hollow Held”
People said "Sorry for your loss," suggesting / gone forever, suggesting never come back, / never get found, as in empty, as in without, / but it was something more / like transformation