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Publications

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you cannot eat a koi fish

puckered fish     needle in the eye     swallow me swallow me / sew     my own eyes           shut...

Red Glare

"When Pat told me the story of the house, it felt shattered. The story had ruptured inside of her, a thing punctured and bled. Broken in all the ways a thing can be. I had wondered if there were parts of it that she couldn’t remember. Maybe some things she had blocked out, or been erased, or things she had been spared. Perhaps there is no whole, undissected story. A house is a house is a house, until it isn’t."

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