Writing on the Wall

I was born under a sky that is as serious as the Pacific ocean. That black ocean is close enough I can smell it rolling my suitcase off the tarmac at SeaTac airport. We are…

Let’s get back to bones. Praying. Resting. Labor, Warmth. Smell the living and dead.

Once, when no one was looking, I danced in the black night under a bright and playful moon. I had music in my ears, I had sprinted up the hill and around the neighborhood as…

Something has stirred me out of a long, antsy sleep. It’s been almost a year since I’ve smoothed open the cold pages of a new journal. It’s been almost a year since I signed and…

I’m in Mesa, Arizona, in the backseat of C’s car. I watch the desert expand itself as we travel east out of the city. We are leaving behind the watered cactuses and thick palm trees…

I patted my armpit rash, of an unknown cause, with a folded piece of toilet paper wet with isopropyl alcohol. I pressed my body up close to the mirror, so I could see if any…

The east-chasing breeze  Brings night to my bare skin Red shifts to blue, It brings daughters back home again There is no need to leave When breeze asks you to go Stay and see what…

Paul locked the bar door, and waited for me to find my keys. The door sealed behind us and I tugged the handle to make sure it was locked. Usually, after I shoo all the…

Even the weeds are blooming.  I met patches of daisies that looked as if they were soaked in lavender water. Purple seems to be the color of late July blooms. On either side of the…

I was driving west towards Missoula, on my way to work. Brandi Carlyl was playing her second evening show at the Kettlehouse Amphitheatre, and highway 200 that cuts past our dirt road was pinched narrow…