Poetry Volumes

Conjecture Poems

airbrush and promise

glitter me this

but don't expect

a paycheck

i am not impressed


we are all plain as jane beneath the makeup


lips slicked

foundations matted

tattered to the bones of bare


we carry on

burdened

past the biscuits

and the trim spa ads


glitter me that

and know yourself


spastic plastic in

pumpernickel circles of cappuccino

wishing we were latte


so much foam

so little substance


pyrite pressed into the palm

fooled and fueled by

airbrush and promise.