POETRY ARCHIVE

NOVEMBER 2026

the day you agreed to a communal hysterectomy

because the physician dressed in her AI best

told a story you thought you'd never believe

OCTOBER 2026

The first mirror left before the thaw, / slipping from its hook so quietly  / the dust remained in its shape, / as if absence could imitate glass.

OCTOBER 2026

Driving this back country road, you bother a sheen of crows / on a half-flattened wallaby carcass – its insides steaming, marbled, / glistening. Flocking indolently into the needlepoint light, 

OCTOBER 2026

Wild garlic is not a pretty flower. / Two leaves, a white stalk, and a smell / as if the earth had opened its mouth and breathed into you.

OCTOBER 2026

Basement detritus, albums of sediment wait to be uncovered by me, amateur chronologist. Searching begins with a blast of furnace heat as I cradle plastic like porous parchment.

SEPTEMBER 2026

I’m not from a Romantic culture

Let’s face it—

Stiff upper lip and all that

AUGUST 2026

tied to the post / target pinned over the heart / guided to the gallows / rejecting the hood

AUGUST 2026

He reached / the end of his rope / inside the family / garage, dangling 

AUGUST 2026

Once in a nightmare,

the flood was swallowing me. 

AUGUST 2026

Love was raw, and you were beautiful then.