Lowkey sad how many poetry and lit journals have shut down or gone on hiatus. These have all been published in journals and magazines that may or may not still exist — but let’s give these poems their moment, shall we?

All I See is Golden

Published in The Origami Review, 2022

My dad always says to look at the bright
side of life — he wouldn’t believe me
if I told him I found it here.

The yellow leaves catch the light
of the setting sun, a glimpse of heaven
clinging to the branches, their final days
and I’m not sure if it’s a celebration or a funeral.

I should see death
but all I see is golden.

Touching the Sky

Published in Healthline Zine, 2023

Maddy tells me I seem enlightened
and I’m still trying to believe her.
In yoga, Bani tells us to send compassion

to the parts of our bodies that hurt.
I’m empathetic to the quiver in my lip

and faith fills the room
with the morning sunshine.
I’ve been trying to be my own lighthouse

but the sun has been waiting to shine
on me, willing me to stand tall 

as the field of sunflowers on my drive home
reaching up, touching the sky.

Bleeding Fruit

Published in Scran Press, 2022

Everyone agrees my aura is pink
but one specifies what shade.

Am I grapefruit, the one
who’s always passed up
for another?

Am I passionfruit, beautiful
yet tasteless? Not everything
pretty is sweet.

Or am I peach? Baked
before I spoil, too soft
to stick around long.

I want to be red; not like Taylor Swift
but pomegranate dripping
down your chin, cherry
caught between your teeth.

Nature’s Litany

Published in pomegranate lit, 2021

They say “finding yourself” like you’ve got a map
with red pins; in each location, you’ll find a new
piece of yourself. I’m discovering myself 
without ever leaving

my front porch. South Ave feels like 
a fairy tale and the white flowers 
look like tiny angels, kneeling, 
praying on the branches.

I’ve never been able to get high enough 
to know how sweet the blooms smell.
One time I got so high, the old tree 
told me it loved me.

Apartment 2

Published in COLORS: GREEN, 2023

You can find shelter in the details
bong on the bedside table
the plant that droops until you water it
how the sun shines through the window on the left
in the morning.

You can find shelter in the details
curtains and blankets with vines on them,
velvet forest green pillow, 
a herbarium painting on the wall.
According to a Feng Shei expert on TikTok,
green wakes you up, gives you energy.
I’m trying to feel more alive.

You can find shelter in the details
I tell myself this.
See the shadows of branches 
blowing in the wind?

I See You in the Sunset

Earlier version of this poem was published in The Lunar Journal, 2022

In Austin, I keep looking
for you — you always did say
old habits die hard.
I see you

in every passerby on the street,
a run-down dive bar listening
to that Old Dominion song
you love, the one about sunshine

fading and planes flying away.
The sun kisses
the horizon like lovers
before they part and I’m wondering

why golden hour
never feels golden,
why it always
feels like goodbye.

White Roses

Published in Selenite Press, 2022

Pregnancy: I’ve heard it hurts like hell
but after, you can’t even remember
the pain. Maybe that’s how you felt
in your final moments; your last
labored breath into your lungs, delicate
as petals, a sigh of relief.

I wish I could have done more—given
you all the oxygen on the planet.
You were unforgettable
as a bouquet of white roses
and I can see you now
surrounded by blooms
feeling nothing but springtime.

I hope one day I can lay with you
smelling sweetness and innocence
and forgiveness.

Owl City, the Fireflies are Going Extinct

Published in Somewhere in a Dream, an independent zine by Phoenix Tesni, 2022

Ten million fireflies: a city, a skyline
more luminous than New York.
They don’t teach me

how to dance, but how to be free.
How to fly like it’s my last day,
how to feel the Earth as it spins,

so slowly, how to avoid mason jars.
We deserve so much more than life
inside a glass. People try to capture

a picture of us but we don’t want
to be framed; all we want
is to be alive.

LOOMINGS.

Found poem from from the first page of Moby Dick; Or, The Whale by Herman Melville. Published in The Creative Zine, 2022

Dr. Teal’s

Published in Healthline Zine, 2023

Therapy is $15.99 if you order on Amazon. It smells of the feeling
I’ve been chasing since 2018; the no-need-to-set-an-alarm,
reading-poetry-by-candlelight calm / or, chamomile.
The packaging reads Comfort & Calm, & in the same
orangish-yellow I imagine my aura is—pistils
of the white flowers that made these. Peace is a bag
full of bath salts, plus it’s safe for the cats. Divinity is laying
in a field of drying chamomile, sun setting on autumn
but I’m not scared. Dr. Teal is the angel who kisses my hands.


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