brittle (a poem)

Working from the Cat Coule poetry writing exercise at (Back then, I looked forward to eating hot dogs at the game…) My dad and I used to park behind the museum, then we’d walk across the bridge to the stadium, the crisp leaves crunching under our feet— crimson figures disintegrating on the frosty graphite ground. [...]

Drifting (a poem)

If the last two years of National Poetry Writing Month have taught me anything, it's that I'm more likely to write something if I have some kind of prompt to work from. Otherwise, I write only when I feel like it, or when a noteworthy phrase pops into my thoughts. So, I borrowed The Daily [...]