by McKenzie | Jul 27, 2014 | Blog, My Poems
with skyline and sun. The dark shapes on the water are like turtle shells, inverted and empty, then sinking as the sun moves higher. Fish rising and falling with sea and storm.
by McKenzie | Jul 15, 2014 | Reading
ADOLESCENCE 1 In the scoliosis clinic, I waited in a room of skeletons while men reshaped the architecture of my sister, spongy discs stacked in S-curves like haunted seahorses, undulant when I shifted a protuberance side to side in my thumb and...
by McKenzie | Nov 24, 2013 | Blog, My Poems
This is how it happens—he lifts the dress above your head and brings it down around your hands. You become a peacock, all feathers, all lace. You breathe deep, shrinking your frame as he fastens the eye-hook, zips up the dress. Then, the...
by McKenzie | Nov 23, 2013 | Blog, My Poems
The body is pregnant with limbs and dismemberment—they tremble...
by McKenzie | Nov 18, 2013 | Blog, My Poems
Humans are a series of feathers left inside-out. You are out in the rain, pacing from one eve to another, looking up at the splintered gutters, left cracked from last year’s Michigan winter. At the door, you take the world inside—one footprint from the...
