
o god

gold star kid

You Set Your Hair on Fire

Spring Sprung in Hell

Light as Privilege

With your laughter tattooed to my ears

Escape to Brooklyn

Seven Years of New York

Storyteller
![Mother’s Day Poem [during COVID-19]](https://images.squarespace-cdn.com/content/v1/5ec18b136fddd309535c2366/1589764498203-X98K2G4MR8WM93X17J4X/EA06A01A-7FBA-4544-8A3C-6E0D46902DD1.jpg)
Mother’s Day Poem [during COVID-19]
Remember that Spring
It all begins with an idea.

Asked the Giant
It all begins with an idea.

Better than Something
It all begins with an idea.

Oxytocin Junky
It all begins with an idea.