- Juniper, Java Rickshaw Man, Breath - Porch Literary Magazine - October 2023.
- If Loneliness is My Only Fear - We Are The West: Tributaries - Twenty Bellows Publication - Fall 2023
- Stoicheia - Iceblink Literary - September 2023
- Glow - a self-care anthology - Indie Earth Books - June 2023
- Inflection Point - Ridgeline Review - June 2023
- Eirene - Gypsophila Magazine - May 2023
- Baby on My Mind - On The High Literary - Winter 2023
- Bandaged Heart - Raw Lit - March 2023
- The Fertile Tree - South Broadway Ghost Society - March 2023
- Heart in Prose - Twenty Bellows - March 2023
- The Music of My Mind - Words and Whispers Journal - March 2023
A Batavia Street
Published in Issue 10 - June 2022 by SORTES MAGAZINE
The cock crowed three times,"Kukuruyuuuk, kukuruyuuuk, kukuruyuuukk...," as the caterwaul of morning that awakened me from slumber. The scent of jasmine and mint emanated in the air from Bhiksu Shiao's incense at the temple, to the east of my shelter. Petojo Street, Number 13, in Batavia, Indonesia, where I lived, in between the rugged walls of Captain Lowenstein's house, a government worker, and the home of a Javanese man named Joko. Our shelter had no number nor postal code, only a metal sheet over our heads to keep us out of rainy days.
The Path to Grim Road
Published in December 2021 by TWENTY BELLOWS LITERARY
Before I was conceived, Yin-Yin knew me as a timeless truth.
I was the opposite of Grim. I was the hope, the wings of the dove, and the tall in the short lives of Denver. I was theirs in faith and I knew they needed me — the lost, the homeless, the sinners. One day soon, I would be born into reality here, forged here by Mallory, the priest of metallurgy and infused with the spirit of a child. Thus my name, as entitled by the maker and the daughter of a good soul. Yet, Grim was the darkness even in the darkest corner of the hellish plight. He was a skewed compass, a death mark.
First Person Op-ed articles for Chalkbeat Colorado