I Met My 80-Year-Old Self

A prophecy emanating from the future

ESSAY

It’s Hard to Write When You’re Down

But you are not alone

What My Mother Taught Me About Racism By Being Racist

Silentio

We will grow louder — A poem.

Deviation

In the social act of recovery; it seems that joviality repairs frayed cords,
too much temptation hovers above decision-making;
petunias in…

Behind the Glass

A poem to the octopus at the aquarium

Towards Oblivion

A Poem

He walked into infinite darkness.
Seeing into the continuity of space,
that seemingly ceases…