Posts
Along the Edge of the Fading Light
I pick up stuff. Things others left behind. Scarves, mittens, dollar bills, pens, rings. And I cannot describe what it…
Third Thumb
Ma has a third thumb. It hangs from her pocket when she thinks no one’s looking, drags behind her as…
Ice on the Wings
I get to relive one day. That’s all. For me, a crash ended everything, but the full range of trauma…
Stanislavski’s Fly
Character and Expression class. Monday. A black box theater. The teacher clutches her cross pendant, “We must be looking above…
The Mass Blinding of Sclera, Wyoming
The town scalper says he lost his eyes at the supermarket. Left them on a shelf in the toothpaste aisle,…
Moths
—finally, it is night and you wrench the bulb from the porch ceiling and all the moths plop to the…
Lil Fucker
We bury Lil Fucker facing north in the frozen yard, halfway between the dogwood tree and the rusted tin shed,…
T, My Name is Tonya
But not really. It’s a nickname, something my sister used to call me. You wouldn’t know my real name. He…
Landfall
In the time that my mother has been missing, the skies have turned a gray, roiling mass. The radio is…
Love 1992: A Catechism*
Does Love exist? Is fat meat greasy? Cuz ain’t no way I could’ve fallen so hard, so fast, so far,…
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