Post-Election Abecedarian
America, a gleaming ship—mighty engines,
billowing sails—the wind at our backs one minute, hurricanes
careening toward us the next.
Haiku [it’s all over]
As one who often writes haiku, it’s always a challenge to distill moments to its essence. When I was sitting with my thoughts, I heard sirens off in the distance, which captured the sense I had of melancholy, anxiety, and unknown dangers on the horizon.
Our Waitress’s Marvelous Legs
It’s men I’m prone to eye, but when she comes
to take our order, I’m too distracted
to think beyond drinks, too awed
by the ink that garments her limbs
to consider appetizers, much less entrees.
Migration Ghazal
My ship is two hands held together to cross the water.
What hope you carry, don’t spill a drop across the water.
If one spills out, we push his name like a prayer
into the palms of the dark, the body lost on the water.
Smoking Ceremony
You call me arsonist, mad firefly: our photos curl and crackle in the sink. Those years together burn—smoke thick with