December 2022

You call me ho; it’s short for home.
A cockroach falls from a chandelier
and my bodega loyalty fluctuates in
pace with the funeral’s bloody nose.
I’ve been eating trees my whole life,
which usually made me more patient
but more cruel; recently I stood on
a...

Why am I here again with all of them flittering about? Just to be alone—
It’s what I tell myself, that I too bear black spots on red skin,
It’s how we scamper about before flowing off with our chiffon wings ready...