Sequined gowns fit when I was young, their sparkles stitched from TV static. Sheets draped the skin when TV went off for the night or the set broke. TV does not go off ever anymore. But I can’t watch it or the night’s middle pressed against my own. The tree in the window makes me turn to Paradise. That’s the… Read more →
Start bleeding uncontrollably one March evening while watching college basketball. You’reembarrassingly sure you’ve peed in your pants until the couch is forever stained.Stand in the bathtub and call your doctor. Listen to her tell you to get in the cab Right Now.Bleed in the cab’s backseat. Feel bad about the mess. Zip across the Manhattan Bridge. Know you’ll think about… Read more →
Not so much The End of The World as the end of humanity and whatever unlucky animals we take down with us. Every nice day, I think about the last nice day. The final Spring. The last flower that dies in a world with people in it. In the future will there be a human version of the crocodile, the… Read more →
Warm and thick, like wine left swirling in its glass, you think of Guangzhou’s breath when winter arrives in New York. There, you pour Hudson’s whiskey and name it the same vintages. You step into the room near Harlem, swallow the light that tastes of uptown rain and diesel. Your breath clouds the pane: another bottle finished, another Pacific ocean,… Read more →
Note: George Ure wrote a book about his concept of psychocartography, but my definition of the term is not related to or based on his writings or his definition. ReleasingI enter the labyrinth and release my past. Re- lease. Re-inhabit. Re-member. I pick up a thread—to find my way back. I am my own Ariadne. Tied. Release. Re-call. I call… Read more →
i carry my mirror self like the gift it is — fragile in its limbs, soft beyond reparation, beyond repair. beneath his oblong face, pack of honed molars suppressing a psalm of hope. on the hill of his desires sits a boy at the bed of a river, tossing pebbles across, bobbing as bubbles ripple the surface of the water…. Read more →
Three tornadoes take out the power and I give my mother updates on the hour. There’s another watch, another storm coming. But don’t worry Mom, I’ve prepared as much as I could, sandbags and cans of vegetable mush and enough kush for a blackout. This is the contract we sign, two hundred fifty days of sunshine for front row seats… Read more →
1. Spiral notebook plastered with animal stickers. Bunny wearing a beret, balancing a palette. Kitten cuddling a giant candy heart. Dog standing upright in a yellow slicker. 2. In the first entry, I wrote about my baby sister who died right after she was born, which is what my mother had always told me. 3. My “faverett” food was “spgetti”;… Read more →
The short jacket thrives1 in the type of yellow that you won’t add any adjective word in front of, and you could always find it at your first glance2, regardless of where you tossed this outerwear the night before, regardless of who3 and what4 made you toss it. The main color of yellow has been interrupted by the dark-brown stretchy-materialled… Read more →
I turned up that exact snapshot: recognized nobody, nothing, just as it knew not either of me. Police radio chatter & deep calming breaths: step predicts into its next step heel to toe. History to blame: makes whatnot so. You wait in the hall forever for time to be up. The fire door. The search party. Skin, bones & the… Read more →