Creative Work

Memories, like the ocean, surge and ebb. Miami was a small, sleepy town in the 50’s. Ike was President. Women...

My father can’t look at me anymore. He can’t see past the bright teal bra straps tight on my slouched...

Hill I live on a hill. A very steep hill. On the east bench, above campus, overlooking the neighborhood in...

There are some fruits that never show up in poems. You see apples, pomegranates, & figs in poems. The forbidden...

“Be there in half an hour.” Pari read the message from Rachel several times. After graduating from their Master of...

If you touch my hair, The skinny lady sang about it And I say:   I hope my dandruff falls...

Artist’s Statement: This piece was created in an attempt to articulate the distance created between myself and the self I present...

This world would chew me up and spit me out if I let it It would quiet me, destroy me...

This essay is inspired by what I thought would be a late-night tweet, which I am particularly fond of, but...