I don’t write much, although I would love to!
All my recent poetry can be found here. Here’s one:
a minor try
A soft piece, a shard,
the shutting of two eyes to breathe better, a finger
between the plastic sleeves of
an expired curriculum vitae; whispering the art of forgetting
during the ritual of stirring tea.
people-watching and curry-smelling,
sighing and nursing a lip of research between the
teeth of time and smoothing a creased skirt that crumples back,
again and again.