I want the cure for ordinary days. Once I searched for it in a bottle, drank my way to oblivion but always woke up where I’d begun, hung-over, scraping for seeds in the bird feeder like all the other
Category: Fall 2019
In the middle of my mother’s boring and heartbreaking funeral, I start to think about calling off the wedding. The feeling of Clara’s damp hand wrapped around mine is suddenly revolting to me in ways
The little girl and boy were screaming. Not the bad screaming. Not Mia’s screaming. Lucretia stood in the outer schoolyard, looking through the fence
So you wait and watch and worry and plan because the reply that comes, must come, around 7 or 8 will be that much more monumental, you watching the end of the universe and the sound of a rotary
Or are they straining to be chosen? It’s one day possible to ask. Piling slowly over each other’s rust Green skeletons, uncertain Eyes and heavy claws that open Useless against one wall and close Probing shells of living
Bakersfield is the type of haunt you tell new friends you’re from, not a place you grew up in. To survive, you have to make peace with the sun, wind and of course the
Today, my doctor informed me of two life changing events. The first was that he diagnosed me with a terminal case of Alagille syndrome. This means I have insufficient duct capacity for bile to
As I bend, my body accordion-folded, mind floating above while my body, underneath, performs its own rituals— A firm pinch, a brisk yank, then I toss the weeds I
many hats, not all at the same time. No Bartholomew was he. Every day a new one, sometimes two. His ears may ache, and his hair hurt, but the pattern continues. Always his head is covered. Even while asleep.
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