Gris-Gris, Winter/Spring 2022

Pleased and so honored to share that my recent work “The Hunt” appears in the Winter/Spring 2022 issue of Gris-Gris! This is such a powerful issue, with stirring contributions like “Famuli after Sappho” by Ann Huang, “IS HOW, THE SAILBOATS” by K.B. Pitzer, and so many more. Don’t miss the chance to page through and take a journey into the strange and Southern world of this year’s Gris-Gris journal.

Read “The Hunt” here.

Lament for the Marketer

Lament for the Marketer

(With apologies to J.R.R. Tolkien. See also: Lament for the Rohirrim.)

Where now the MQLs and the SQLs? Where is the ad that was running?
Where is the backlink and the keyword, and the bright CTA converting?
Where is the brand in the market, and the USP differentiating?
Where is the CPL and the CPC and the go-to-market strategizing?
They have passed like leads into Salesforce, like Slacks into threads;
The emails have gone down in the inbox, behind the spam, into shadow.
Who shall gather the clicks of the email nurture running,
Or behold the flowing prospects from the CRM returning?

Photo by Adilet Asilbekov on Unsplash.

Mausoleum Press, Issue 02: Coven

What’s dark, twisted, and just a little bit rotten and wretched under the bark? A poetry ‘zine around the theme of the coven, of course. In this release from Mausoleum Press, dive into the black, bitter, hearts of women and witches, and see what’s growing under last-year’s varnish. Lots of great work in here; don’t miss “Fragments; November”, by Aishwarya Khale, and “Stray V” by Kerry Trautman. My piece “Every morning, my stillbirth” closes out this collection on page 23.

Check it out!

The Garfield Lake Review, 2021

Discovered an interloper in my mailbox this afternoon! The 2021 edition of The Garfield Lake Review is stunning, thanks in no small part to a gorgeous oil painting cover by Abigail Licht titled, “Despair”. Lots of great prose and poetry in here as well alongside the visual art, including meditations on quarantine, the impact of COVID-19 on families and individuals, and the struggles of coming of age in a world defined by dualities. My contribution, “In My Father’s Woodshed”, appears on page 121.

View the online edition here.

Beyond Words Issue 11, February 2021

The work collected in each issue of Beyond Words magazine is vibrant, eclectic, and moving, showcasing emerging writers and artists worldwide. I’m proud to see one of my pieces appear in Issue 11 this year! Check out “Dust to Dust” on page 26 in the digital edition, or if you’re feeling fancy you can order a physical copy. (I did this—you won’t regret it, they’re gorgeous.) And if you’re a fan of the stunning art on page 27 just opposite, head over to view the work of the talented artist, Katherine Bloom.

Get your copy here.

Sand Hills 2020 Online Exclusive

Be sure to check out Sand Hills Lit Mag’s 2020 Online Exclusive! This whirlwind of fiction, poetry, and art is both haunting and effervescent by turns, and will linger with you long after reading—like pork fat and Santa Cruz tortillas. I’m delighted to share that my poem “Make welcome, Devourer” appears in this collection, joining the work of many estimable poets, authors, and artists. Keeping good company, as they say.

The full issue is available free online—flip through if you have a moment!

untitled 9.20

I have seen you like a skyline
far off behind twisted overpasses,
towers blue against the horizon haze.

A downtown intersection
bike-bells clang the moment’s urgency,
restless with doing, doing, doing.

I stretch out for your hands and they pass me by,
the crosswalk chimes
so do plans hurtle towards their fruition.

Pigeons nest between rooftop spikes:
My city loves
the only way it knows how.

Photo by Dillon Kydd on Unsplash.

The Initial Scythe Prize Collection

“Mrs. Anna Schaap sank to the scarlet whorled rug on her living room floor. She did not cry.

The creature in the mirror before her was not human. Eyes, hair, and an ostentatious nose, all sat in the places those features ought to be. The eyes blinked. The nose drew in air. But the face did not live. It was a face, a little pale face, unremarkable against any other olive-cheeked, paste-eyed face.

Her hand clenched the threadbare carpeting. A little came away on her palm, crumbling like a receding hairline.”

— “Blue Plum Jelly”, now available in the 2016 Scythe Prize collection!