Yes Day
My son asks at breakfast if today can be
a yes day, grinning up from his bowl of fruit
because we’re not that kind of family.
Pangaea in Her
It’s every writer’s favorite smell,
like Barnes and Noble
or hole in the wall used book stores—
paper and pages
wedged in between whiffs
of nostalgia, dust moths
and memories,
Dear First Draft of This Poem
I wrote you by hand but can barely read you now.
What beautiful cross-outs you offer
the world!
Whalesong
of course, as a poet, I’m supposed to think
words matter, am supposed to note
the irony in the Pentagon algorithmically removing
references to diversity from its websites
The Loss of Lemons
A woman had lemons in her head. It’s not that she wanted to make lemonade. She simply had lemons in her head. She could feel them in her head the same way she could feel a star dying. The woman insisted on getting an MRI. She wanted to see X-rays of the lemons. She imagined it would be like looking at the moon suspended in the night sky.
Safety Drill
The notice from my daughter’s school about the next safety drill arrives in my inbox the weekend before her first