Two poems

Erasures of handwritten notes taken at a job investigating workers' compensation claims in the insurance fraud industry

It’s sandwiches all the way down

"This is my body / working for money"

Our kin keep disappearing

"We're gonna ask the boss’s boss to lean in a little closer"

Ancha (Redux)

"my dead work each place"


"My pencils are sharp / And my paper is real"

In all of my dreams, the words I love you

"the interviewer has my hand / in their hand now & they ask me if I’d like to learn"