Category Archives: Poems and Creative Writing

Re-membering: a foreword

When I was a child, I thought grapefruit would taste like purple. Perhaps I thought this for years, or only once, or not at all. Memory is tenuous like that, all shifting colors and morphing shapes. I can only truly know what I know now, and sometimes, not even that. Perception is unreliable. Yet, hereContinue reading “Re-membering: a foreword”

The next, best thing

There will be a time when the thing grazes the tips of your fingers and you sense the displacement of the air between you and the thing. Do not mistake this displacement as your own. No. Your feet, shoulder’s width apart, are planted as they should be The thing was not yours. Not that one.Continue reading “The next, best thing”

And yet, here we are.

I did not write this because I stayed in the bathtub until all the suds were gone and the water got cold. I did not write this because it is not poetry. I did not write this because the Christmas tree is still up. I did not write this because my morning alarm goes offContinue reading “And yet, here we are.”

Going the distance

They will judge you whether they know enough to do so or not, because a lie is the shortest distance between a stranger and a threat. Certain skin, shapes, tongues, ways of loving and of seeing God(s), the way your body moves or doesn’t, these are no mystery though, maybe, magic. You are a map,Continue reading “Going the distance”

Because April is the cruelest month

Teachers know. April is the cruellest month Houston doesn’t really have much of a spring. Can you even call it spring when there wasn’t really a winter? No. April is early summer. Temperatures in the upper 70s, low 80s. Longer days. Sun. Thunderstorms. The weather itself mocks both teacher and student. It feels like summer.Continue reading “Because April is the cruelest month”