Prose & Poetry

As a boy I played In the yard on summer days; Laughter guided me. Then dad

Beady is the weed that grows             where I tried wildflowers instead of lawn for you

I only went once to Darjeeling, was sure I’d return some day. It turned out I

Slice of Costco cake for my fourteen-year-old self, the CAMHS kid that he was. Now don’t

Lips pursed in a kiss I blow these phrases in one deep breath Out into the

Winter winds whisper softly The breath casts a chill into the soul Bare trees reach out

The elastic waistband in America’s underpants was fraying, blown out. Shot. We’d sucked too hard, too