“For the self / needs to be taken to the core now / and then…”

…needs the world to be a little dirty
and dark, below the surface, steeped
in cheap vodka, breath reeking, voice
slurring names over a broken intercom
that garbles human speech, reducing to hum
places you could go but don’t.

You can read the rest of my ode to the underground, “Subway Theory,” in the latest issue of Crazyhorsealong with my poem “Memory My Leaf.” Thanks so much to editor Emily Rosko—whose own poetry I admire so much—for including my work in the issue.


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