Category: Poetry


  • coffee

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    i remember learning to use a coffee maker for the first time in oakland, when the sunrise was molten on the edges of the hills and turned the kitchen floor into sun-puddles and bacon was a special breakfast my grandmother let me stand on tip-toe and pour the water in it was cold through the…

  • apprehension

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    we pulled up to paradise, trying not to peek at the rubble next door. apprehension seduced me, and we pretended not to watch the scavengers sorting through the shambles of a life, strewn on the sidewalk like crumbs fallen in the corner behind an overfull trash can. i held my breath but nothing happened. you…