What do reality shows about morbid obesity, a widowed mother rat, and a college textbook on canine etiquette (written by and for dogs) have in common? They’re all part of my forthcoming chapbook, Zoo for Well-Groomed Eaters, which is due in 2016 from Dancing Girl Press.

The collection’s  poems each focus on consumption, on the constant eating, eating, eating of all things–living or not–in our great universe. I also say “fuck” A LOT, which is always fun.

An amuse bouche:

“You call us pious,
but ours is not the God of Lambs.
We lord only
over insolent things: aphids, flies
and crumbling moths singed
by light—they mistake obliteration for heaven,
a human quality.”

(From “Lady Praying Mantis”)