do not underestimate
the space i will claim.
Category: poetry
women throwing things into fires
on any given night
whether the moon be bright
and fat
or a shadow of herself
bone stories
oh, i could tell it so many ways.
a head start
i breathed
with him barely
sipping the pale air
my house will have no sign
you will not find it by name or number.
geese
the sea-wives
«mother doesn’t give a shit.»
the dance
one day the woman awoke
feeling strange.
At last
we are drunk for the first time
in the foothills
of cadair idris
fresh out of school where for five years they called us lemons
and dykes.
baba yaga’s hut
they come to me for the stupidest things.
/
