I suggested fishing and then showed up to the dock without any gear. Mira showed up with a cooler full of Fat Tug. The sun above us is an infected eye, red…
Perhaps we want to remove the frame around the picture. I can hear little clicks inside my dream; How apt, I thought, how simply beyond repair. Saint Lucy, you did not hide…
1↑ Writing by: Mary Jo Bang’s A Film in Which I Play Everyone, Anne Carson’s The Glass Essay, Kimberly Grey’s Mémoire, Maggie Nelson’s Bluets, and Lewis Warsh’s Touch of the Whip.
i imagine the whales, the tall slick of them; where lichen sucker and chew bone-white carcass, these live rarities dance in spiral under crystalline waves. beige islands beget seabirds, curiosity. i have…
My muscles sang when I pushed myself out of Mitzy’s outworn Ford pickup. She had jabbered like a Steller’s jay about how she was so happy I was finally home, and how…
A worn red carpet, ill-fitting, covered the long floor ending outside the back room of my great-granny’s house. It had a bump. To step over that claret carbuncle, to push into that…
Alchemy, duckweed. Brine‑veiled, a delicate corrosion, neither green nor blue, the space in between—like oxidized lullabies. A surface reaction. Sun-damaged plastic lawn chairs. A ruptured glaze, motion under sky and salt. Furred…
He roamed at large, hungry and evil In the freezing Yule snow. In every home People shuddered at his name. Jólin koma (featuring the poem, Jólakötturinn) written by Jóhannes úr Kötlum and translated into…
Summer: Smoker in hand, Warren moves from hive to hive. At each entrance, he pumps the bellows once to quiet the bees. The chisel end of the hive tool pries off the…
We didn’t own a vehicle designed for road trips because we hardly took any, and Dad’s car wasn’t designed to handle off-road travel because he never strayed from highways or city streets,…
A cemetery criss crosses white on a green slope with no names. I imagine from the adjacent peak peeps the glint of a metal helmet in the shock of a tree where…