2024

"B Movie Babies" - The Texas Media Signal Foundation, June 21, 2024

We spent our Fridays and Saturdays
at the Dollar 8 next to the Pizza Hut
watching Jackie Chan subbed
and Godzilla or Kong or
risqué coded gay vampires
sneaking in through propped
open exit doors
making out in the dark
eating gummy bears
and popcorn till we puked--
"The Will of the Whisps Mother" - Kaleidotrope Spring 2024

"​Go to the road, my little helpers, bring me flesh and bones. Go to the lake and sit among the slippery stones. Outside my pasture you are but sprites and sylphs, burning and pulsing in the dead of the swamp. But go, go still, I will not let you stop. Drink of the methane from the shallow well, before you carry out this dark task. Who gave me your souls, I dare not ask, but I stitch them small and smaller until the fire of your soul could fit in a mere thimble. I’ve read the book of dreams and asked the flowering ferns, I’ve sought the symbols in the flames, but nothing else will suffice to fill her hungry belly—and I can hear it rumble with such uncanny and deadly sounds. So go! Go! Go!"
"Here Be Dragons" - Kaleidotrope Winter 2024

"Once, an old man at a con
referred to a trans writer
as two people—”they”
are they twins?
are they brother and sister?
are they friends?
And sometimes this is how
I feel--
like a crowd within my skin..."

2023

​National Poetry Month Art Show!

Join me at Sabine Street Studios

April 8th, 5-7pm - Opening Reception
April 18th, 6-8pm - FREE Blackout Poetry Workshop

​Taking place during National Poetry Month in April, Poetry Between the Lines is an exhibition of large-scale erasure poems. Erasure or blackout poetry is a type of found poetry created by taking an existing text and “erasing” or blacking out words on the page. The remaining words form a poem. Using a variety of books, Walrath’s visual poem-paintings explore the use of line in art, architecture, design, and poetry.
"You Crave Poison" - HWA Poetry Showcase V. IX, October 2022

​The gash of your mouth opens
wide around the cold
porcelain of the condemned--
the lonely, the wasteful, the lavish
like a kitten dead in the road
all things are wanting to you

​"Water Drawn from a Stone" - Not One of Us, Issue #71, July 2022

My father is calling me again in the middle of the night, in the space for dreams. I answer and although he cannot form words—just heavy syllables like stones he cannot get his teeth around, not small pebbles but large, coarse stones wet with the sound of his disease—I hear him nevertheless. Is he trying to find out if I am alright or if he is alright?

​
“Literature for Ukraine” published in Houston Arts Journal
​March 10, 2022

"I kept thinking about the video of the Ukrainian woman, who told Russian soldiers to put sunflower seeds in their pockets so when they die on Ukrainian soil, a flower will grow. “Put the sunflower seeds in your pockets, please. You will die down here with the seeds. You came to my land. Do you understand? You are occupiers. You are enemies.”

I think this woman struck me and many others as very brave. But the idea of sunflowers – the national flower of Ukraine – growing from the corpses of soldiers is a complex and heartbreaking image. War obliterates both sides, on a human level."

2021

Eye to the Telescope, Issue 42, October 2021, "The Sea" - A Keen for the Sea King's Daughter
"The princess is dead--
She’s laid up in the castle chapel,
hair bound in ruddy sailor’s knots
dress the color of morning tide
skin as pale and fae as starlight
—and the waves are rising on the shore."

Barely South Review, Vol 12.2, Spring 2021 - Sacrum

Researchers comment on how this is more valuable to childbearing. Because even our bones are made for what men want. Because as hard as we try to be sacred, they can always use us for sacrifice...
Picture
Mithila Review, Issue 15 (March 19, 2021) - We're Refugees Who Found Love Searching for Atlantis 

With Italian translation by Marco Raimondo. Italian version first appeared in Numinose Lapidi (2020, Kipple Press) 

The ocean is a vessel cast in the heat of the stars
We walked there in the twilight and sang skysongs
Our bodies were translucent and full of darkness
How we carried our homeland in our bones

2020​


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​2018


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​2017


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2016

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2015
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  • Vine Leaves #16 (October 2015) - "A Red Sky." 
  • Our Space: Shorts & Poetry from the Houston Community (2015) "Morning Song." Edited by Writespace staff and volunteers. 

forthcoming
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  • Radon Journal (2024): "Ghost in the Shell
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