& what do we say to the boy digging the sand to find his love? the earth is for grief…
& what do we say to the boy digging the sand to find his love? the earth is for grief…
Emma and I drunk took a bath swimming as a sloppy fish on another night that we’d never recall in full detail. Wildness overgrown enters the spine turns…
MY LINEAGE ETCHED IN PIXELS MY BODY TRANSLATED TOO MUCH FOR ANOTHER MAN’S EYES I LIVE UP TO MY STEREOTYPE, WILL, LEGACY, ONCE MORE: ETERNAL…
“Hiding in plain sight, this highly intelligent, creative, and adaptive animal has managed to thrive against the odds,” Kathryn says. I lived in Boston and…
Half a day’s pushing couldn’t shove me into the world, so they snipped me from her stalk. The doctor tossed the hot potato to my…
Tenacious little devil, eye level to the world’s approximate lower third— O every greeting deserves a response Damn the impulse! Misdirected power,…
They’d later say Everett Hurley’s wife died during a snowstorm, but really it was sand: ten months of wind, smothered town, blistered earth. Ceaseless silt,…
touches the water with one wing, deliberate or a miscalculation, no way to say. The water isn’t deep except at the center, old creek bed …
If you can kill two birds with one stone let’s have a rock concert and hang the winged creatures that hover over our dirty laundry…
There was nothing too bothersome about the compact, mint-colored beach cottage when the woman first moved in except the landlord, an older man who brought…
perched on a fist out in the wild Atlantic where we shelve caricatures of ourselves for the sweet, barren dunes of art, freedom and most…
From my front porch, clouds hang like gray cotton from a moth-eaten quilt. No rain, but it’s promised in the silence of cicadas and the…
my mother on the other end of the coiled phone cord describes her insides as being of snakes chewing holes in the lining of her…
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