"I curl each clammy tentacle like pasta on a fork
And slide them down my back to forge a spine.
Spandex shorts take all my crooked pieces:
Knobby bunions and bulges of slime,
And mash them into not-quite-legs."

Unsummoning Song

"The rats that packed the room surged towards her, carrying their offerings of crumbs and meat casings and chocolate-slicked wrappers. My fingers clenched around the candy bar in my pocket. I inched closer to her throne, shaking with anticipation."

All Our Whiskered Idols

"Roxanne felt better about handing some kid at a party a glass of roses or limes than she did a glass of blood and powdered feathers. Even people outside of show business thought nothing of spiking plain brown tea with rose petals."

Kahlo R. F. Smith

Selected work