poems bone stories oh, i could tell it so many ways. mugwort do not underestimate the space i will claim. dead rabbit dora found a rabbit near the tip baba yaga’s hut they come to me for the stupidest things. / the dance one day the woman awoke feeling strange. geese once more with feeling:[bellowing] you do not have to be good the sea-wives «mother doesn’t give a shit.» my house will have no sign you will not find it by name or number. Untitled (Mother) sea, ever changing, ever constant. what do you know about mother?you cannot know mother. You are the tiny person, the cupped hand, and every moon Linoprint and birthday poem for Em a head start i breathed with him barely sipping the pale air women throwing things into fires on any given night whether the moon be bright and fat or a shadow of herself Dora it is not a friendship, not a business transaction, not a love affair, not a baby. At last we are drunk for the first time in the foothills of cadair idris fresh out of school where for five years they called us lemons and dykes.