Stand at the sink shelling pistachios / contemplating how well the Xanax is / working.
We are thirsty and we wish for rain
We speak towards proper weather. / Towards knowing the horizon as well as / our heft, our hips.
The president is shooting holes / Through my bedsheet. Why are / you laughing?
April 28, 2013
you had / a little headache from / the light dinner / of boiled flowers
A red wherever / sunlight has fallen
Money Is Murder
I once heard / of a teenager / who threw / a fifty-cent piece / off a highway overpass
Emily Kendal Frey
WE TURN OUR ATTENTION TO THE DARKNESS OF INFINITE SPACE
My feelings for you have yellowed / Turkey sandwich, ham sandwich
Dena Rash Guzman
this is scatterbrain / a theory of a war-torn mind
© Ink Node, 2017