Poetry

Brian wouldn’t stay dead,
days when we gathered together,
fingers forming triggers, […]

yester night, they bared their skins of everything,
of clothes & worries. from the crown of their head
to the sole of their feet, naked. two bodies, […]

Blood oranges taste the sweetest,
how they drip red down a chin without a cut, […]

Where the grass is tall enough to whip
and a mailbox covered with faded stickers
lies sideways in the gravel, roadside— […]

Certain odd little thrills: Speaking to the man behind the counter in between hiccups. […]

Wendy Chin-Tanner is the author of Turn (Sibling Rivalry Press, 2014), which was a finalist for the Oregon Book Awards. Some of her poems and essays can be found at The Collagist, The Rumpus, The Huffington Post, xoJane, RHINO, and Denver Quarterly. […]

We never cared for opera, our mouths were just for kissing: maps, fast food,
phosphorescent bourbon, then you went rogue, and that was life. I followed […]

Dear Brown Bright Heart,
sneak into my mouth—crowned glory […]

god raked the clouds this morning // have you noticed
// everything molding // into pasteurized colors // […]