Humanity: Raw & Unfiltered
raped or abused as a child maybe I wasn’t attacked in a parking lot maybe I was almost raped maybe I was almost abused maybe all the things that didn’t happen to me were a blessing for me thank you to my angels I’m so sorry for all the heartache Read more
monkey sees men through glass, so glad not to belong spider hangs in her summer web, already feels the fall upstream fish prefers to drift when choosing not to spawn crow departs the evergreen branch, ignores the murder behind fox in silence takes her prey, will not be called a Read more
you spat me out at the very top of the tornado where sky meets dust just high it was blurry-dizzying, nauseating most mornings chewing-gum- pin-balling between being wrong and being wronger, I know I was never wrongest I slithered, spiraled down that treacherous hole, it felt like years and honestly Read more
I say I know Minnesota like the back of my hand. I don’t know the back of my hand. I wouldn’t recognize it on the street or if it slammed a door. 1 Not like I recognize the lines etched near my eyes, I saw them emerging at 20 and Read more
You want to be a part of me, your absence of color like spider’s silk growing, surrounded by a sea of dark strands, lonely. Patiently, you wait for me to find you, but my job, chores, phone calls, and the rest of routine that comes with family keep me distracted Read more
I’m a bad bitch, stay low to the ground witch, made of ground stone and bone motherfucker, bleed snake skin and vermouth. I was born under a watching eye: teeth, moon, armless spiders are my kin. See me sizzle against your skin, erase time from our coordinates, etch Read more
At night, after my day as a spice merchant concludes, the smell of garlic and onion dust coats my clothes and body like a new skin, as though I am someone different. I do not shower before visiting my parents, my scent melds with their age and confinement. My mother Read more
(a cento, mostly) “The days go by waiting for better times.” I Day after day we sat in the library of our isolated country house, listening to the voices on the radio with an increasing sense of doom — Hitler and Dolfuss, Eden and Chamberlain, schoolchildren and soldiers singing Fascist Read more