United States

Published Work

Novel Writing Competition 2019

Where We Finally Ended Up (Excerpt)

    Ben threw fits, bad fits, which I secretly loved, because my mother often had no choice but to send me over to the Becker’s. She would restrain Ben on the floor to keep him from hurting the rest of the family as he flailed against the hardwood, and as I watched from the corner of the kitchen next to the back door until she shouted at me over his screams to go. Then I would slip out the back, letting the screen door slam shut, and sprint across our acre of backyard to dash through the back fence. I’d walk until I reached the Becker’s house and climbed through the bushes to emerge next to their trampoline, and then I’d ring the doorbell and spend an hour or so playing princess or basketball with Betsy until my mom called Mrs. Becker and said it was alright for me to come home. 
    Betsy was my best friend in Illinois. She...

Water Body

Her Ocean

She breathes and Her supple skin swells
cresting, crashing across Her collarbone,
her fickle fingers finish flitting (meanwhile the water wells,
feeding on the fear of Her own body, the ocean unknown)

but should callous hands capture Her
drop down a line from a dry deck to go fishing for a feeling
and serendipitously send shivers rippling across Her waters
coaxing the so-called cursed secret from Her offing

even while still too scared to get his own feet wet
(i hope only that when the waves calm
She can escape the fisherman’s net
and dive back down with new aplomb

to escape the boater in what he saw as his sea
blind to the fact that this swim would be her apogee)

Poetry and Spoken Word Competition 2019

the impenetrable youth

here we are with our blue-stained tongues and hands
dyed from popsicles which drip down wrists and chins
wooden sticks sweating corn syrup because we talk too much
no time to finish licking up colored sugar
we’re too busy expressing ourselves with words and hands

we are the impenetrable youth
sticky fingers picking bug bites till they bleed
sweet blue sugar words melting in our ears and mouths
loving the taste of living: our quiet rebellion

you can try to destroy us
smash ice blue electric smiles pressing tongues against teeth
but our stain will stay on the roof of your mouth
a laugh on the tip of your tongue
and our sweet may sour in your mouth with time
but it will only leave you missing our saccharine taste of freedom
so for now bare your blue teeth with pride
lest that smile melt away
and the tastes of death and summer become synonymous