The Beast – A Boston Poem

The salt and sand, your stomach acid. Churning, crunching, your mouth opens slow (You monster) a gaping maw that devours people. Whole. Your stomach lining is cold, covered in a thick plastic, green-grey speckled with phlegm and age spots. Yellow and black nerves, bright against your flesh, trickle, drip downward. I want to press one,Continue reading “The Beast – A Boston Poem”

The Witches of Lowell, Lawrence, and Lynn

  Jillian’s family was a bunch of nature-loving nudists pretending to be normal.  Like werewolves, on certain nights they stripped down to the cashmere of skin and spun in circles; arms raised, mouths flung wide.  They chanted made-up words jumbled together from decaying novels and sang them like they meant something.  It was a sweetContinue reading “The Witches of Lowell, Lawrence, and Lynn”