Poetry
Poetry is a way to play pretend as an adult. It can be therapeutic and imaginative, it can be painful or fun. Thank you for reading my poems.
Chicken Shit
Little hen, you have done it again.
Shoved more and more under the hay of the coop,
clucked to any hen that would listen and nod,
and stared in awe when the rooster inevitably crowed.
Mother hen used to do that too, and
you thought you were above that.
Little hen, may I ask you: if
you are the one who somehow pecks the embryo out of the egg
why must everyone walk on the shells around you?
Handle with Care
10-Minute Spill
Be careful what you tell your mother
when your head is in the clouds,
when you voice the pain she has caused
and what you hold her responsible for
that wasn’t technically her fault.
It was your father, but protecting you was her job.
Remember the berry picking, the sewing,
the blackberries stained, the needle
hurt like a blade. And that she was angry,
at you, always.
Horse
Tall, strong, and mighty
Glorious creature escapes
Galloping away
Meditation
Grounded in the earth
The air is now breathable
Divinity found
Mouse
​
He is back to eat
seek shelter from the cold air
please just stay away
Beach
​
The sound of summer
as the sun peeks through the clouds
the waves crash and break
Survivor Final Council Season 39
After Rosa Castellano
I have outsmarted
and made my way
to the top, without
fear of the
blindsided.
We sit at the fire
and you ask why
I deserve
this new life.
Let me begin again,
once upon a time
I played the game:
helped others
only to betray them.
I picked splinters from my hands
after climbing trees
to find fruit,
and felt the sting
of salt water
enter the wounds
where they once were
I pushed until
my body broke,
withered and
sunburnt. So much
has changed.
thirty days, and I am
not the same person.
I finally
look in the mirror
and I can’t
recognize,
me?
It’s a tribe
of foes, who
whisper when
I walk toward
the ocean.
As we competed
a man yelled,
and I couldn’t help
but wonder,
would I be the next
to go? I have never wanted
to be next until now.
23 Questions for a Stranger Across the Park
Hello!
Do you ever feel like you’re playing a character in your life?
Do you think that you are the main character, a supporting character, or the villain in your story?
What are you like when you are angry?
Did you “fit in” in high school?
Do you wish you had “fit in” in high school?
What did you think of the “popular” kids in high school?
What is the funniest joke you have ever heard?
What is your favorite thing about yourself?
What would you change about this world if you could, small or big, global or internal?
How do you pick your outfit every morning? What’s the process?
What does your outfit say about you today?
What is the most interesting thing about you?
When was the moment you felt happiest?
If you could live anywhere, for free, where would it be?
Have you ever been in love? What did it feel like?
What is your biggest regret?
What was your favorite year to be alive?
Would you rather be a toxic partner or be with a toxic partner?
If you could bring one person back to life, would you be selfish?
Who is the one person in your life that you can’t imagine life without?
What is the one thing that would make your life easier?
Let’s talk.
Girl at Midnight
She lies on her back careful
not to turn away from any of her toys
in fear that she will hurt their feelings,
and, in turn, seek revenge.
Raggedy Anne’s smile will fade
to an ominous frown as she directs the cult.
Froggy will jam his soft green arm down her throat
and suffocate her as the barbies on the floor crawl up
the bunkbed and use their chewy plastic hands to hold
her eyes open until they dry out.
​
The toys are always watching,
during the day, harmless, but at night
a cold silence everywhere.
The toys she loves are evil.
Maybe if she slows her breathing,
they won’t steal her breath.
Maybe if she is still and lies on her back,
there will be no knife to remove.