Bones come at sundown

White or gray, thin as needles or like the timbers of a shipwreck, bones come at sundown.

This post is part of my book-long erasure poetry and collage project on Tove Jansson’s The Summer Book.

It rises; it dies

It rises, it doesn’t rise, it dies; a wilderness of growth entwined in battle or in love.

This post is part of my book-long erasure poetry and collage project on Tove Jansson’s The Summer Book.

Balance

It tried to grow directly into the teeth of every storm, crouched and twisted, the balance between survival and extinction so delicate.

This post is part of my book-long erasure poetry and collage project on Tove Jansson’s The Summer Book.

New Poem @ Blanket Sea

Visit Blanket Sea to read or listen to my new poem “Please Pay at the Reception Desk on Your Way Out”, a poem that describes the experience of trying to get medical support for ME/CFS.

New poem in Rogue Agent journal

The Trip Up is a poem about feeling different because of a chronic illness. When people find out, or when you tell them, reactions are mostly uncomfortable. In one moment you become “an other” and people become unsure around you.

You can read the poem here in the latest issue of Rogue Agent.