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The squirrels will not stop peeing on the trees.

Fear in a Handful of Dust / National Poetry Month 2015 30 Poems

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Fear in a Handful of Dust


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He gave the GI Joes a bright turquoise and orange fifty-cal,

Due to the volume of submissions

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Somebody pushed the automatic fuck-you button today, not the due-to-the-volume-of-submissions-we-receive button, nor the it-does-not-fit-our-editorial-needs button;

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No one means to go that way, on an errand to the mall....


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Hiding Places

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A frozen heart is without failures

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No! No! Nonononono!

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“Dolphins swim in the soul when it is calm,” the king of television yoga says. His face seems so relaxed. Suddenly, you feel the heat, and must remain quiet to remember, again. Later, you will hang with…

Fire Opal

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She was trying on her jeans in the bathroom, the same jeans she had tried on a few days ago, somehow imagining they'd fit.Her waist was growing fast now, but, if she believed this would work for her, that the jeans would stretch or that her body would fade... her will…

How the Body Prepares Itself

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it corrupts the smells// and flavors of the world/ and plants its swollen face


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burnt-up leaves rustle and fall


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I formed a snowball in my bare hands. Hard as a rock, I let her fly.


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Carson said she expected better. Pat McCrory said we should burn the place to the ground.


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After his resurrection the children began to play.

Curse at Your Smoking Gun

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// opening act: van featuring balloon featuring drugs // headliner: lubv ya babe

A Thousand Days

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Some claim my brother lay with me, I own

The Secret

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Of course then I did it all over again. Got married, that is. Fortunately, this one worked out.

Then, But Not Now

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The one-legged crow was back in the yard again today, as it was yesterday and may have been before, but yesterday was the first time I noticed it among the murder while using the binoculars that I often use to bring things closer, things like these iridescent and beautiful…

Daily Bread

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A little poem about prison


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She slipped on a slimy petal and hit her head on the driveway. Splayed out flat, looking up at the white, white sky— she knew she had skated on wet, slimy flower-bits too long. "I'm tired of that tree," she told her husband, mopping blood from the back of her…


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The stunned son knelt to understand then fell, his heart shredded by the hollow point.

Receding Haiku

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love weaves a perforated web between the spikes of longing

A Skeptic’s Faith

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Sunrise steals


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He spends his Sunday morning spraying WD-40 through the straw-like stream attachment at the expansive paper nest of beige and ivory striped wasps.

Used Books

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Jody cracks the flaming jade, thus it's old Or, not old, just not new, used, the song sang The thirst slaked, the luncheon ate, drink drank. Are letters in books when the book's resold Made new? Another nook, a novel day Biased light lights the…

Thunder Snow

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A farm girl raised on fresh eggs and weather forecasts...

What’s the Dark Matter Doing to Us in the Dark?

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Will it// scare us shitless when we can finally/ draw ourselves a likeness of it?