Creative
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Creative

an apple is the doorstop. in lieu of a working lock it is an invitation, a trail of pawprints from stoop to kitchen to hallway and back again   does it count as smoking inside? if we pour our lungs to the front porch and the smoke trails slither between the chipped green paint, green skin to...

When water melts would it smell like wax   Unlikely: Butter. The oil that won’t come off   I do not see the birds, only their feet, and even then, only the ones missing talons   I’ve been pulling my hair out since I was little, letting it fall from my...

The bartender starts work now. He doesn’t drive. He walks. I guide:   a vanilla glow peeking at winter’s chalk drawings.   He goes in through the front door. I go in through the window. The bartender’s lips are dry.   He fills craters with liquid. Warm in the stomach. Water on the moon.   Drops sift through space, down our cheeks, like...