A fist full of angry thistle that you’ve pulled by a ditch along blacktop cutting and carving through cornfields in…
Which sounds, I admit, like tumors and must, on some long scroll of words, have shared a common root, some…
The hand was hungry, could eat none of small creek animals, could not catch the slippery catfish. The fiddler crabs…
When you draw the Atlantic over your red shoulders like a comforter and submerge ten yards away, I don’t know…
December settles like skin over the trees’ skeleton: bones bowed under a broken sky: my mother is the body of…
you were not the only child i didn’t have but the only one i named not Near Miss or Scare…
An owl with a broken beak, and a bone-mourned silence. It would have been a mistake to know the names…
identity, sameness from taútós, he, she, that + -ótita, -ity, -ness the mortician asked if we wanted to make sure…
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