My Sister Says There Are Parts I’m Not Remembering
In the nonhuman future, particles of plastic pulverized by the North Pacific Garbage Gyre work their way through scales of fish. Stars flare through their life cycles without faces. How badly I want them to have faces. My tombstone could be a horse’s heart as it beats, quilt of blood, swift to the furthest reaches, warming the nostrils, the tender… Read more →