🙞 Southeastern US-based writer/poetess 🙜
My dad told me how to live May you be blessed with all that is good for your mind, body, and soul and I told him how not to die
By Kayla2 years ago in Poets
The Drive Back “I used to say to my classes that the ways to get insight are: to study infants; to study animals; to study primitive people; to be psychoanalyzed; to have a religious conversion and get over it; to have a psychotic episode and get over it; or to have a love affair with an old Russian.” -Margaret Mead
By Kayla3 years ago in Poets
Almost every day, I drive by the spot my brother bled out onto in 1989 It’s a patch of sidewalk on the corner of a fire station
By Kayla4 years ago in Poets
Flowers in a Vase Molucca balm in glass, upright, parallel to my lips; I inhale mauve irises, muted fixations gathered by another
By Kayla5 years ago in Poets
I once almost wore a veil into forests of burnt umber and sea with the son of a Mexican migrant smoke rose from a bougainvillea-print
I once scried Tom Hanks in a bowl of Tom Kha Tofu soup & not in a ‘wow, that lemongrass is taking shape of Tom Hanks’ kind eyes!’ kind of way,
you spread fresh-ground almond butter on semolina & seed toast you spread the laundry across that bulky primitive-print chair and fold neatly
