Goddess of Open Mouths

  "I dig because I am hungry" – Margaret Atwood, from Digging (Selected Poems, 1965 – 1975) I was nineteen when I first saw the ocean. My fingers locked with my lover’s that night, and the wet grate of sand on my feet was a new satisfaction. She was nervous. I held her hand, felt her thumb rub … Continue reading Goddess of Open Mouths

Traditional Geomancy

  The stone rolls over and and then settles. There’s a tender moss growing on its underside, delicate, like a secret, spreading. It is spotted with gray pillbugs— the tiny creatures we called rolie polies when I was a kid. The centipedes pass like traffic. They weave in and out and on through, cross limp … Continue reading Traditional Geomancy

In the Fields, Growing Green

Take the biting creatures netted from the brackish water in the bay and carry them, still writhing, to the empty fields where they’ll rot in the Sun. Let them feed the earth if it’s hungry, and what's beneath (if it's hungry), and come again at daybreak to gather-up the bones. Smell the edges of decay through … Continue reading In the Fields, Growing Green


She squatted with her hips turned-out, froggy and studied the corners of the house. She sought shadows there—silhouettes lengthened by a setting Sun, longer memory. She knew there should've been arms there stretched out, with their fingertips pointed sharp to snatch and hold. But she was selfish, after all. No roots. Everyone said so. No roots. The yard smelled like home, anyway, … Continue reading Geophagia