Beach girl
I spend two weeks at the beach and in that time my lifelong suspicion towards the water tightens into a ball of wiry dislike. Gummy in my mouth, spat onto the cement. Yes, the ocean is like a metal...
View ArticleAres and Aphrodite (April and August)
Awkward, to be developing an affection for Alvin that is not romantic nor absolutely platonic, and as a result feels abjectly transgressive. But, by God, defer your judgment of me for just one moment....
View ArticleThe barricade
False, that I walk through a gray Tokyo evening, arms out like a windswept umbrella, crying to Jeff Buckley. False, that I have fallen in love. False, that my abs won’t show, no matter how long I plank...
View ArticleEnter here / 入る
Pylon, python. Ready with a wet rag. An impression of me, between sheets, humidly, on glass. My desire is to write the book on you—poised, perfect, candlelit—while you struggle, at my feet, to scratch...
View ArticleAsk for more or nothing
AI-generated poetry is preferable to human-written poetry? Oh, we are actually done for. The authors describe the reason in the results: The AI poems are more accessible. My house is full of cowards...
View ArticleMixed message
He starts talking, agape and eros and I think, oh no, he knows. Nacre heart on my neck. Never were, never weren’t. The issue is, activism is embarrassing. The issue is, you save lives by inventing...
View ArticleIntent but not intention / 合宿 / 顔色
Give me a little more credit. Big clouds, wave skimming with easy light. You don’t let me finish my thought. You don’t let me process the feeling. Telling Alvin I’m trying. Feeling lost. Streaks on my...
View ArticleThe shepherd
A fair fight, a sentence to death. In the center of a sniper’s sight, I miss you already. An apparently humorless man, but still I saw you, when you turned away, smiling at the way I stood there with...
View ArticleVisits from the spirit
Compromise is a good word, but compromised isn’t? Stripping the sheets off the bed. The bowl has to be washed first, but it’s too big on the rack. Shadows in my brain like shrapnel. They didn’t do...
View ArticleWading through the Rubicon
Afternoon, Tokyo. A big red car called Rubicon crosses my path. What exactly did you win and die for, Julius Caesar? A nightmare in which a lesser woman wins a grander prize. Wait, I was awake when...
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