In the still morning

My coffee cup has frothy

Ocean waves in it.


Land-locked Love

My poem in response to the amazing new nonfiction book, “Sex and the Sea” by Marah Hardt.

In the deep-sea dish

of salty pornography

the whales with belly buttons are mysteriously deepening their booming voices.

The warmer weather might make more boy sea turtles and the salmon are struggling against dams to spawn.

My knees get ozone burned at the beach as I sip coke and read about dying marine erotica.

I realize my odds are better on land than the sea creatures in the rising temperatures of the ocean.



Self Talk


I lied down in my own feces, exhausted from conversations with myself.

I waited while people looked through the window of my cell

And sprayed canisters of perfume through the space of the floor and the door.

I said to myself, in the depths of paranoia, “Why are they looking at me?”

I answered, “Because I am God’s gift.”

And they walked away.