My poem, Deadheading, is in the current issue of Thimble Literary Magazine. Here is the poem:

Deadheading

I woke early
this morning,
took down
the two

photo albums
that bookended
the mantelpiece,
and began

to cut your image
from each
of the photos.
I planned to bury

the remains
behind the old
shed—where
once our tire

swing sat.
But mom
caught me at it
and she hasn’t

stopped screaming
since. It’s been
a week
and no one

knows where
you are.
Do you?
I cut

the images
using the small
sharp scissors
you put through

your tiny palm
once. One
of our countless
trips to the emergency

room. What was
it you were
so desperate
to say?

Was god so distracted
he didn’t notice
the difference
in the clay

he held in each hand—
twins that bear
such little resemblance.
A bubble gum light

cuts through
the house.
An official rap at the door.
You’re home.