It overwhelms the immovable./ That’s despair right there.
Poetry
Bada Bing Bada Boom (and other poems)
He was so damn good—/
had a look, cocky smile, a lock of hair/
loose across his forehead,/
dark eyes that could melt metal.
Love in a New City (and other poems)
The metro arrives looking similar/
to that childhood game/
where we had to prevent the ever/
growing snake from eating its own tail.