Poetry: 

A round, soft ball of wet, pale terracotta Craving change, I walk into the studio, Throw it down. Sitting, hands on the edge of the...

When I was in 8th grade, my favorite song was Ric Flair Drip.  It was immensely popular, played at the school dance.  Blasted in my pink...

The leaves crack As I touch each page of green Gone in a moment With Time’s undeniable caress Death clipped its edges And beckoned it...

7/9/2010 When my little head reached the bottom of my mother’s hips, the willow tree was still singing in the backyard of my...

There are rare precious moments in your life when your spirit and body aren’t the same size, and upon passing a pond of serenity and...

Level 8 In December of 2020, two weeks before Christmas, my father died of Covid-19. The numerical rating scale is a pain scale that is...

The boy down the road had barely finished blowing out his candles before they came knocking. His sister screamed as they hauled him away,...

I come from the grey estate on the lake. Where the water’s bed runs sandy in the winter time. The old radiator creaks in exhaustion, and...

-The Ballad of Pedro: Summer Camp wasn’t the best experience for me, but it could’ve gone a hell of a lot worse. I guess if you want to...

Oh to be seventeen Its seems the age had this high of adolescence With memories sharpening as if they were a knife Held to my throat....

Tonight I worshiped the moon so hard I got a little grass in my mouth. Hips shifted back, palms up, face pressed in the dirt. Tipsy on...