When I steal, I steal big.
I steal the spring
And the birth of flowers.
I capture the giving,
A child’s crush—
Innocent and generous.

Reckless as a clever symphony
designed by the clash of wind and sun
he dances immobile, dazzling,
on this fixture of frail smoke.

He orders himself a Mexican scramble on tortillas with black beans with a side of bacon, toast and homefries and a can of warm cocacola.

She was sitting in the bathroom
On a little pink carpet
Staring at the toilette water
Her delicate chin
Resting on the toilette bowl
Her right hand
Holding her sculpted long blonde hair

Jesus saves
The battered wreck
He inherited from his father.

Hey Alexa, do you think google reads my email?

I was happy in the factory. I met my now- ex-husband, I made good money, I had vacation time. I was in a union. Where else can you get a job with those kinds of perks?

Nothing about loving you is ice, or cold. Well, maybe your feet. Mine,
too.

It’s one of me, spitting
out bones. Bones in
my mouth so long
I thought they were
necessary teeth.

I am a manifestation
between stardust and dust
my lover said
over her avocado toast,
as I scramble to avoid
the lure of Tinder