I want to yell at them that not every man is a degenerate Don Juan.

Radiant girl, warm and hot and close to me.

the meteorologist and the speaker of the poem are making out in the middle of the parking lot.

The squirrels clawed at the fine china.

The wild blue unthinkable happens.

I was never girly enough for the girls or boy enough for the boys.

On editing.

“Mothers are not interchangeable,” he reminded me.

i wonder how much time i’ve lost trying to do right in lieu of just. doing

we pinball!

I'm the driver, but she's the boss.

I pick up the beer and hold it as an offering.

If you’re aware of it in the moment, then that’s something else. Call it what you like – but not love.

On finding a home.

We’re humming Don’t go, Jason Waterfalls.

The footage would be lost but not I. 

They say it’s for lovers, but all i can think is this state goes on forever.

Let the chips fall where they may, she thinks.

Part of growing up is learning how to let go. 

What do we know of exit wounds, anyways.