poetry

Artisanal LA: Autumn 2014

The Reef was full of passionate foodies and crafty vendors; what an inspiring mix of people to collide into. Every isle you meandered down beckoned you with some sensually stimulating substance. Scented spices, meats and cheeses–even goats! They nibbled you softly when you went over to say hello.

A Poem for Ophelia

Ophelia–also known as “Killer Rabbit”–is the one in the blue #15 helmet. That evening, she moved in a way that reminded me of my younger self. An untouched sure-footedness which, I think now, stems from being oblivious of your own confidence. It’s something tough. Lasting. The aura before you discover what awkwardness really means.

Of Angels & Bitches

This man criticized my new friend for not paying me with money for a poem. I asked, “who are you to judge another person’s investment?” He repeated that line over and over again, as if singing a song. “Who are you?” he demanded in a deep melodic voice, emphasis changing each time. “Who are you?” He scared my friend away, then unkindly demanded I create a poem about my question.

me & thelittleblackcoffeecup

Last week, I got a chance to meet up with Ashley (creator of The Little Black Coffee Cup). We only knew each other through Twitter, thanks to our mutual philosophy–“substance over stuff,” as she aptly says. We connected over delicious gourmet coffee, then explored the artsy streets of Culver City.