• new happy year

    When I first moved to Vancouver, I had a three-month sublet, a bedroom filled with meanings not my own. Everything is temporary, knew that already, eating off a stranger’s plates and sleeping in a stranger’s bed. I looked forward to a different living situation to have a space of my own, with my own things,

  • fight this

    Trekking all over Seattle finds me a tofu corn dog and Chipotle I couldn’t pass up, poetry on the streets sold on scraps and rapped from corners. The city becomes more familiar with every touching down, every bus shuttle kickoff at the base of the Space Needle, asking peace officers for pointings in right directions

  • what will i done

    My train leaves in 6 hours. I know people who know people who have taken the same train just to take it—the journey the destination across the plains and through the mountains it’s so gorgeous, just you wait westward bound on the shamelessly named Empire Builder. When my dad was a little boy, he took

  • the thief is me

    For graduation I got new shoes, oatmeal cookies, and a digital camera. Today I look like this: I visited Fargo this past week in pity-preparation for ureteroscopic surgery to remove my kidney stone. All those hugs from family and friends must have jarred it loose, because I passed it through my system Saturday night making

  • “There Were So Many Dreams, There Was No Time For Sleep”

    This past couple of weeks I’ve shadowed the living in a constant state of shock, surreal—nothing surprises, only lets down and terrifies. Personally politically psychically I’m shaken, a manic puking mess hysterical, I laugh when I should cut, cry when I should fight back, sleep when I should write, dream when I should wake up,