Poetry
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sifted bones
Crimson bleedson her clean pink jumper,blooming,like Poppies in October,the Plath poemwhich has nothing to do with poppies,the wounded woman’sheart a watercolor seeping. Fresh ruby dropsjust as we were ready to go home,declaring a reminderthat everything is not normal, everythingis not as it should be, but the portals are openthe veins are still alert,dripping,as the nurse…
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This Morning
I went for taro, custard, and red bean buns. Shrieks above from an argument broke my somnolence; a gull defended the cross it perched on from a circling raven’s assault. The vanquished raven landed and sulked. Do I call it augury, score a win for yang, or remember Jeffers, who wrote, “it is bitter earnestness…
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“my new friend”
“my new friend” don’t follow me like thatwith your sleazy saunterand those toned (bone-d) twigswobbling wedgesdollbaby dresshippie handbagand impossibly long locksthe color of crows (screaming murder!)the color of cats, those black island cats, following me all overstaring me down with eyes the color of citrine don’t look at me like thatholding your ground as i…
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Dialectic
The absence of Desire is sometimes Called peace. See flowers. Smell them. See birds. Hear them. Imagine their absence. Who can deny life’s desire for more life? The absence of desire is sometimes called peace, But perhaps only by those too weary To witness spring. Jason Szdlik‘s poem This Morning…
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Shy
Accessible Word Version_ Shy_Kayla_Wilton Shy by Kayla Wilton I received my English degree with a Spanish minor from CSU Stanislaus in Spring 2019, and I will complete my creative writing certificate at CCSF in Spring 2020. Writing is my passion, but I also dabble in drawing, painting, photography, and performance. My work has appeared…
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Solanum Lycopersicum
light from overhead fixtures reflects off of your hallowed surface like distant low beams cutting through fog cold and unyielding though supple in places, your smooth skin covers familiar topography in reds and oranges so fine hiding the vulnerable flesh within nightshade sepal that you wear as a crown does it remind you…
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Bag of Marbles
We were shooting marbles with our older brother Arnulfo kneeling on a patch of dirt Front of a mud brown apartment building Clink as one marble collides into another He won a ruby glass Cleary Shiny marbles, shiny joy in our eyes As he was 27 and playing with us kids…
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Embryonic Drums
I need to pasture this plain but have no water supply, no aqueous piping to advance the drink that last river to cross in the bloodvein of bone-filled alleys where bibles and knives lay used and worn hummingbirds careen in plein air, flip, then flop, land in a grove of latticed leaves their…
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Sticky Pavement
Tense, blurry sight. Status? Stagnant water without the contemplation. A deep-rooted spinal itch, trails like a trickle, not cool, not sweet, up to my neck and down to my tailbone. Let me breathe myself into the night air that drifts and clings to my nose tip ears, eyebrows, lips, chest. I want…
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Momma Spider
The tenuous strings that hold her aloft Are of her own creation. She weaves them and deals them, Spins until she feels celestially secure. Strung between a hearty green branch And a wooden-panelled house, She softly sways against the pitch And fall of the warm-winged night, Silhouetted by the tiny icy stars That align…
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