My Monster kid

carries a hotel bar of soap

when I see her.

She thinks she’s gonna catch me

catching her cussing.

My Monster kid

clips Sunday coupons

when I see her.

She hold her scissors with one hand

and begs from the yellow kitchen.

My Monster kid

lies on the floor

when I see her.

She lies to all of us about mathematics

Then screams into the bathroom mirror.

My monster kid

only sees herself

only hears her words

when she talks to herself,

holding a hotel bar of soap.

Knocking Water

on the water

webbed walls

calls the morning

to the sea.

Wooly clouds,

strung out on mist

and hung over from heaven’s.

unending

celebrations,

slide

under the Golden Gate

looking

to shape shift

for the Winter

And we sit around orange tulips

with our feet

in the cool grass

and talk about everything

D.A. Medina