now what

“now what?” he snapped
as i walked into his room. i am
taken aback before i remember
they found colon cancer three days ago
i remember it’s Friday
that i will get to drive away from the hospital
windows down, even,
and go wherever i want

now what


happy birthday, eggs

as my best friend and I approach our 26th birthdays,
(me bravely facing mine ten days
before she faces hers) we discuss the problem
of our old eggs.

she’s always wanted kids. as a kid, as a teen
as an adult – when is my turn, she said,
I want kids! I want kids
but more in the oh-god-not-ready-yet way.

I hear when you’re born your ovaries look like a pomegranate
but now they’re more like an orange
and by the time I try to have kids
it’s probably more like an apple with 1 in 340
of the seeds having downs syndrome (the last part,
at least, is true)
here I sit, at 26
renting a one bedroom under the loudest women in the world
over a hundred thousand dollars in debt
half full of 26 year old eggs


‘I’m tired of not having a life anymore’

at 449 pounds, it’s hard for her
to make it to the doctor, so the doctor
and the pharmacist and the nurse
come to her

she sits atop the couch, three fingers
to lift the hanging skin of her belly.
something is leaking, she says

the antenna brings laughing white teeth
and silken dancing hair through the static of the tv
stale cigarette smoke filling the world
between them


an ode to Daisy, the dog

my mom met Daisy three years ago in a fog of grief after the loss
of her mother. we’d dragged her to a pet store
where shelter dogs had won themselves an all-day outing.
my mom and Daisy met in the back by the bags of kibble
and fell in love

mom drove a state over to the shelter
only to find that Daisy was already adopted.
she left her name and number
in a move I didn’t know you could pull at shelters and said
please call me if she comes back

as fate, or maybe grandma
would have it, Daisy did come back
returned by her owners following their likely displeasure of her habits
of climbing onto tables and her longing stares for affection

Daisy was ecstatic
she slept in every bed she could get her paws in,
and tasted every food by stopping her climb onto tables
and instead gently asking
with her brown doe eyes.
following years of neglect,
Daisy found heaven
a protector, and love

Daisy was a puddle of sincerity:
laying, licking and longing for every human in her home.
she loved my little sister, my dad, and her big
dog brother. most of all, Daisy loved my mom.
the one who found her
forgotten and uncherished. the one who believed
 that she was a good dog.
the one who saved her,
her protector let her go for the last time
and only because she loved her
and only because Daisy absolutely didn’t deserve to suffer
because she was a good dog
and only because
she had to


love away

I loved you deeply, deep
into my heart
but I was too ashamed to say.
love is not to be talked about,
let’s talk about the weather

I didn’t know what it meant, neither did you
so I ran
and you ran
and a year later we’re ten thousand miles apart
it’s still there

love is strange


on following your dreams

for the love of God, do not follow
your dreams

chase the bastards down like they just hit you
with their car. tell dreams you want some damn answers
and if they won’t tell you
where they were last night and you waited
and ended up getting really drunk alone
throw dreams’ shit out the window!

then apologize, get dreams back, and get
to work. don’t let them
get away again



Veronica tells me
‘I can control if I fall in love’


there were nights I came home to my controlled life
tumbling over the front lawn.
I was in love against my will, in denial
with an equal fool in a years-long
game of duck, duck

love swung back two years later
all handsome, broad shouldered and devil eyed
and if you think you won’t know love if it
picked up your broken ass and bought you a margarita
you’d be surprised