a marriage
“a marriage” is dedicated to the poet and dancer, Sandra Doller. Kaneshiro Araki was the tiniest man Margaret Morri had ever seen, at just under eight inches tall, weighing in at two pounds, six ounces...
View ArticleView from a Moon of Jupiter
We have been living here for years, and still they call this place “uninhabitable” in the news. “Too arid for growing crops,” they report. “The winds rage at night, with a noise alien even to aliens.”...
View ArticleBackyard Weather
Raking eucalyptus leaves isn’t the same as raking oak leaves. October is different here. Yet the task commands our back yard and its brittle cold morning. Wood smoke and the distant buzz of chainsaws...
View ArticleThe Dragon
Arthur awakes in the golden wood. He has dreamed of a silver cup or a stone that fell from the sky. He cannot remember which and wonders if it matters. The campfire has gone out. His bedroll is...
View ArticleBill for the Second Line
Eight months after the accident, and I still call every night. Her scent, like roasted pears and cinnamon, has evaporated from the linens. Long strands of red hair which once coated our flat, now...
View ArticleRevolution of the Bean
A flash thunderstorm hits Millennium Park. Tourists scatter as though coming under sniper fire. Some run towards the Pritzker Pavilion for shelter. Others flee in the direction of Michigan Avenue. You...
View ArticleDry
Somewhere in the distance, the earth burns. The sky is close and cupping like the inside of an egg. Five hundred heifers and their calves have been swept together across hundreds of acres. The men...
View ArticleRealities That I Now Recall
After school, Damon reached into the pocket of his rain jacket and showed me a fragment of his mother’s bone, as smooth and white as a swan feather. I had never seen a human bone before, and somehow I...
View ArticleButterflies
It started with butterflies. Wings splayed and restrained. Proboscis coiled, but dormant. The softness, hardness, softness as the pins popped the abdomen, the innards, the felt. The crisp crack of...
View ArticleBoneyard
The cemetery is small and overgrown. The statue of Catholic Jesus oversees from the roadside, the crown of thorns adorning his head and his nail-pierced limbs drooping from the wooden cross. Cars zoom...
View ArticleFestival of Lights
A house on Oak Street burned down. We took many photos of it going up in flames at lunchtime, and it was only later, after posting the photos online for comments from friends and strangers that we...
View ArticleMe and My Friends, We’re Animals
Me and my friends, we’re animals. We spit curse foam at the mouth—fuck this, fuck that, fuck you. Listen for a second. Don’t go away yet. Me and my friends, we’re reckless. We die young. We don’t care...
View ArticleWhite Monarch
I went to my first wedding at twenty-one. A former best friend was getting married to her high school sweetheart. I was dreading it. She stopped spending time with me when she started dating her...
View ArticleBattery
You refuse to go to your doctor for months. You and your partner treat this like most projects, with enthusiasm that can only be dampened by people in authority. Because it’s about the body, you...
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