Leonardo DiCaprio

My ex-boyfriend got measurably more attractive

and all I got was a dad bod.

Leonardo DiCaprio has a dad bod,

and for whatever reason this is reassuring to me.

Leonardo DiCaprio finally one an Oscar

for his lead role in The Revenant.

Leonardo DiCaprio was almost killed by a bear

in said movie. But alas, he wasn’t.

I Have yet to see The Revenant,

but only because there ain’t nothing special

about a settler who defies death

while NDNs drop like flies around him.

Jesse's Farm

We’re driving and the radio says mass marine extinctions within a

generation. No silence, no sirens — an unflustered inflection, then

stock markets, cryptic as Latin mass. I force myself: the interval

between a mother and her child — not enough for refuge in numerics,

reckoning we’ll be old or gone. Her in my rear-view mirror when I skew

it. Undoing velcro:  velours crochet — the maker plucked burrs from

his sweater, studied them under a microscope. There’s a microscope

I inherited, embedded in a fake snakeskin case. Ravaged scales,

Dick Pics

Two dicks, sitting in

my daughter’s inbox,

like men without hats,

waiting for any door

to open. 



Sighting a stranger’s penis

used to be rare. Remember raincoats?

Like a flash of lightning,

like a Scratch ‘N Win ticket –

sometimes glittering knock-off watches,

sometimes a flapping penis

shivering in the electric air.



Overcooked hotdog?

Aborted fetus?

Close up of a thumb?

Rolled baloney on a lonely deli plate?

A Hundred and Fifty Pounds

In some, the luggage lies open

like a mouth mid-sentence.

In others, closed zippers grimace:


What would you have brought?

Slippers, a stuffed platypus, a gold watch

on a chain, copper pots swaddled in bedding.


The hypotheses: that thinking

can be things, that each decision shrinks

the pained mind to the space


inside a suitcase. Include

lacquered chopsticks, silver forks,

a hammer scarred by rust, the orders


nailed to telephone poles and doors.


i thought it was ok - i could understand the reasons

they said there might be young children or a nervous man seeing

this small piece of flesh that they weren’t quite expecting

so i whispered and tiptoed with nervous discretion


but after six months of her life spent sitting on lids

as she sips on her milk, nostrils sniffing up shit

banging her head on toilet-roll dispensers

i wonder whether these public-loo feeds offend her


Community Garden

There, the bolting black kale,

taller than it has any right to be

and not the twitter troll who asked

if you were on your period.


In the corner, a pile of dead

zucchini leaves, spotted with rot

and not the neighbour who yelled

at you about a parking stall.


Lining the sidewalk, invasive

creeping charlie and not

your mother complimenting

your ex-husband’s new wife.

Women Do This Every Day


At the park I look for Levita,

because our work is the same—

swaying wide-legged over foraging toddlers,

we avert bruises, discourage the consumption

of found objects, interpret primordial languages,

serve fruit from hastily filled containers,

and trade a few stories and questions, so I know


that it's not the same work,

because the toddler is her employer’s,

and evenings she goes to a small apartment, crammed with roommates


A half-hour.



Thirty minutes.



One thousand eight hundred seconds.



They sat.



Protest is not supposed to be comfortable.



Civil disobedience does not

fit into pristine conformist ideals

of opposition.



You are supposed to feel something.






Was your perfect day ruined?






It was in a boardroom

It was in a boardroom

that I witnessed the latest killing


A room filled with knowledgeable

white people


trying to understand


what we offer

shaking their heads

not grasping

          the method, our language

          asking - Would that be recognized by others?

          (Academics, I presume)


Not seeing the power their world had

over the space


It was in this place that I saw the latest casualty


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