Apr 17, 2014 | Poetry
I am looking for a pick-axe a long one with a thick handle one to chip my way through the asphalt covering everything I want to hear crickets tall grasses at my heels the shift of sand the suck of mud starlight this is what I think about wandering San Diego at night...
Feb 13, 2014 | Poetry
when I feel crazy or when I run out of things to say as if there really is a difference I wonder why I even bother to write all this down when I feel crazy or when I run out of things to say I go to Joshua Tree I like to find a warm, flat stone to sit on and...
Jan 14, 2014 | Poetry
these deserts lack the scaffolded red-bud Judas trees there are only Joshua trees though they are drenched in silver pieces of starlight spying where there is no Jericho no Serrano on Serrano sands no Cahuilla on Cahuilla lands no Chemehuevi anymore the...
Dec 21, 2013 | Poetry
early one day I was walking with the sun and sky down by Mission Beach, San Diego harbor we watched Cahuilla sailors join the navy trading one desert for another Mixtec men, with iron in hand helping to build a replica of Cabrillo the explorer’s flagship the...
Jun 4, 2013 | Poetry
I’ve seen walleyes dance themes from the bottom proudly showing they never forgot despite finding concrete obstacles to their mating beds. Stoney-eyed fish, puffing bubbles trying to get their freak on met with cold walls say: “not cool, man.” And,...
May 20, 2013 | Poetry
in the havenwoods, a different gossip is discernible from bird-talk it comes from the paisa the fairies of the forest the paisa speak of a young Meskwaki woman who felt her way through the trees chased by cartographers wielding the sharp points of compasses exhausted...