Too Many Humans
she molded their skin on her curves. their adjectives sifted through her river. she kept nothing for herself, her frame of reference remained afloat and ill-compassed. with the smallest breeze, an entire existence would tick within her, foreign and exotic and confused, always confused. utterly and effectively affected. she moved as a mirror would. and within it, a mimic.
Born in Boston. Lived up and down the East Coast, and then up and down the West Coast, and currently in Los Angeles.
Runs rad restaurants. Thrives in a habitat of bars, punk rock shows, and a sprinkling of burlesque performers.
Throughout 2015, publications include Catch & Release, Boston Poetry Magazine, Indiana Voice Journal, and twelve other fine journals.
Now go enjoy your day. Rock on.