Bullshit, Bullshit, Bullshit
—for Katie Mead My friend, we die mid- sentence. En medias res. We die half-delirious in labor reversed. You expected poignant last words but instead came a heap of trash from your mother’s mouth: bullshit, bullshit, bullshit, she said, a bullshit to halos, a bullshit to wings, a bullshit to golden god mansions, celestial beasts sharp-fingering bullshit harp strings. Because… Read more →