In the spring of 1915, Billie Holiday entered the world in the city of Philadelphia, PA.
Abandoned by her father, her mother left for long stints of time while trying to earn money to raise her. Sent to live with her half-Aunt in Baltimore, when Billie’s mother finally returned from one long trip to visit,
Aerostar “That’s the problem.” Danne said getting into the weary minivan and closing the squealing door, “All of the good ones are already taken.” The van backed out and rounded the corner with lamenting tires. I closed my eyes and said a quiet little prayer that the minivan made it to her destination. Terry bought
Inner Demon There’s something inside of me that wants to get out. It’s a beast that will destroy me if I let it escape. Not only will it destroy me, but also those around me. The ones I care about, the ones that I love. The people who love, trust and care about me will
Glass Faces She gazes at the Faces of glass as they float in the air
She fights back the laughter Watching smiles
Faces of glass walk outside They walk in perfect skin
She is smiling at the glass hands As they touch her lips
Softly Softly The light zooms away
Her fire eyes are clutched
Leviathan The tin can scuttled down the cracked and weather-worn stretch of desolate road until it found a sizable pothole to bounce into. A stiff breeze had rolled through the dead plains, sighing a sorrowful breath across a region that hadn’t known life in many years. The puttering can was a harmonious ringing of life
Fire Bug We long suspected she was a super hero, with her stringy blonde hair hanging limply across her black eyes, we long suspected that, but we never knew she started the fires.
We were all either half in love, or half obsessed with her, but everyone was fascinated by the way she towed the
The Year of Good Fortune I looked down at the crumpled red piece of paper. Fu, or “good luck,” was emblazoned upon it in garish gold foil. It must have finally fallen off of the van, one of those ubiquitous grey beasts seen in every city, town, and village across China. During the Spring Festival,
Our Room Cotton against her skin A moon in my window and on a book Beside her head three fingers Spilt rum a bruise on peach pillows
Thunder Silence
I hold my breath for bubbling tar and Oil Streaks on rippled glass wet On broken slate
The patio is old but it was there in
The Spanking Experiment Spank charcoal on page the dictators the mystics the tomato ketchup emperor. Each scream round a gloved hand pierces jigsaw text for skirt. Not the woman with a giant spatula. Not the ghost-man in vase. Fairy whore on rope swing How to Hang Yourself From a Tree. Music paddle shreds. Cornflake girl
Bare-ribbed Talisman There’s a piece of you hanging like an old jacket
on an old nail beside a job I never finished.
Twilight lashes us, which always wasn’t this way, this step in another direction.
Now my mouth is against your wetness and all you’ve shaken loose.
I hear you say you have waited forever
