Everything went into the jar. Extinct charismatic megafauna went into the jar. And George Lucas. And a Martian heat ray. And death, wearing a balloon hat shaped like a jar. And an NFT shaped like death. And freedom. The jar was a very safe place to keep your freedom. You could carry the jar everywhere and never lose your freedom…. Read more →
La Virgencita appeared on a Tuesday afternoon, voice rasped like a smoker, definitely not the honeyed tones I’d always imagined. Too many hosannas, she explained. I’d wanted an apparition, a bird perhaps, or maybe an image emblazoned on cloth or a statue that wept. What I got was an omen in sunglasses, a fountain of immaculate advice. She kept vigil… Read more →
Most everything held close finds a way to expel itself from here. It may later resurface on a rain-soaked window. Most other times, I’ll never see it again. I practice smiling to strangers, unsure the shape my lips make, convinced they must be red. I’m unsure how often to apply sunscreen. I’m unsure how long to microwave leftovers. Maybe they… Read more →
After The Gossips, Camille Claudel In a warm, wet walled, roomlightness comesin with steam. My bellyround, backcurved, two triangle breastspoint to my hips. Flanked by two womenwe lean in forbreath rolling off our friend’s lips. Outside her storydoesn’t exist.In here we moan truth. The story is part of the wallsletting in a little light. Our shadowsare all welcome, unsurprising. My… Read more →
We nap, cool and dark. Halcyon summer bursts through sky and sidewalk, embraced. Thin window slats diffract worldlines like fuzzy light. Dreams wait within the distribution of paths between matter and yearning, between first sight and unbound lives, apertures and possible light. We awaken to certain unlikelihood— the sun entangles us to your hand warming mine, to oceans like reservoirs… Read more →
My sister sits cross-legged on the bottom bunk and lays out a game of solitaire, batting my hand away when I reach out to straighten a card. We’re fresh from a turn at the showers, but our skin and hair still smell of caramel corn and roasted meat. We hear our mother outside, laughing with the other concessions ladies—she knows… Read more →
I’m as much a hypothesis as you, as much a tirade against how the stars have been constellated in the daydreams and nightmares of other living beings. I’m shaping my body into parsecs and fathoms and grace notes and ampersands. I am sad because I will one day die without knowing more than a mote or two. And yet I’m… Read more →
There’s a skin from which I’d like to slip to be more here. Here, but greener. Here but limber. Clarified like a lake whose deep down stones seem close enough to touch. When I found the baby snake, it was lying on the road and I lay down beside it in companionable solidity. Daisies rising from our peripheries, the shapes… Read more →