Month: September 2016

Pompeii or some other place

Burn soft

Into charcoal and pastel dreams 

Kissing women and men,

Who call –

While leaning out their window

“I, Split rose,

I, honey dipped thorn

 sell rags that beggars have blessed

And saints have left by the river.”

Their lips wet with mead and wheat  intoxicant,

Droop down into the vines

Trelissing o’er villa walls

Faded gold bedsheet o’er shoulder

And fitted at waist,

Young men lazily sing lullabies

Praising Dionysus.

My cousin

Tickles the stream of sunlight

Plucking each string

Nights forever in the open court

Of women and men

Kissing golden half sandglasses

Filled with mead.



Maybe I want a house

That’s large enough for a kitchen stove,

A shelf 

For beloved books 

And a bathtub for sorrowful nights.

Maybe I want a home,

Small enough to put a garden in

The front yard


Close enough,

To witness my neighbor peel

Potatoes on their front porch.

Maybe after college,

 a simple life.


1. Being infantalized in front of people

2. Not having pride in my writing when it’s critiqued

3. Giving up, but not having the energy to start again

4. Crying in front of people

5. Not being good at what I want to do

6. Settling for mediocrity 

7. Being affectionate past the platonic level

8. Disappointing my parents

9. Only finding happiness in validation

10. Missing out on opportunities, because I was scared to fail