MRT

You slide your head against the boy’s shoulder
On the MRT and he slides his hand over 
The back of your neck. The train cleaves the air.
The noise of it muffles the voice of the woman

You spoke no evil

[Come on over][MRT] I say we can listen to records I can put on some tea we can read books we can listen to the sound of you breathing we can twine our legs together on the sofa I keep meaning to reupholster I mean get reupholstered

FRGN RSDNT

I have a running list of postcards to send. 
The heat has stolen all the fiction out from me. 
It’s replaced it with compulsive inanity,
The urge to spill hollow words on the backs of photographs 

IN WHICH I DON

IN WHICH I DON’T SAVE YOU

 

Your smile. Your quiet apology.

Your warm voice and hands and the leaves still red on the trees.

You planting the grain. You in the garden. You with the milk. 

Cirrus

CIRRUS 

 

It was a vicious summer.

We were screeching and tarsticky children under the [high riotous sky][IN WHICH I DON'T SAVE YOU] and it was a skinned knee vicious summer. 

Poetry

Sure. Fine. Pick your poison. 

 

[MIDWEST DYSPHORIA][Midwest Dysphoria]
Bryn Mawr, Pennsylvania, USA 2011-2015
Madison, WI, USA 2015-2019

 

 

[FRGN RSDNT][FRGN RSDNT] 
Singapore, 2019-2020