I hide from people. I have a big nose & don’t brushmy teeth. My silhouette is long, splatteredwith lumps, bulging. This is to say: I’m ugly,I want to be unique. Since I was little,I’ve loved goblin sharks, their trapdoor jaws—from “Self-Portrait as Goblin Shark,” Volume 62, Issue 2 (Summer 2021) Tell us . . .
Read More
I don’t want to pluck my burr from your fleshnor do I want to be kind Or if I am to be kind, I want to be a kind of chameleon, night-blue flourescent.—from “When Nothing Else Will Do,” Volume 62, Issue 2 (Summer 2022) Tell us about one of the first pieces . . .
Read More
“Are you listening, NSA?” “Can you hear me Mark Zuckerberg?” “Are you there Bezos?” At some point, these went from internet-era jokes to truisms, from mocking a conspiracy theory to acknowledging the status quo. While it may not be by these specific actors, most of us accept that we can be listened . . .
Read More
When Jesus casts demons into pigs,they leap from steep banks to sea. Some translations suggestlake. The water, salt or fresh, muffles a mania of snouts.—from “Pigs that Ran Straightaway into the Water, Triumph Of,” Volume 62, Issue 2 (Summer 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.When I started . . .
Read More
while I’m outside at the dull resort, near two women trying to readand claim to have managed so far ten pageswhich is nine more than meas I google the etymology of pugilistwhich one philosopher accused another being.—from “near the new year, the philosophers fight on a FB page,” Volume 62, Issue 2 . . .
Read More
the pair of gold teeth you found as a child, hiddenat the bottom of your mother’s jewelry box,were not from your father’s dental school failure,artificials he filed from ferric molds.—from “an open letter to the woman sharing her funny story in this writing workshop”, Volume 62, Issue 2 (Spring 2021) Tell us . . .
Read More
Dear M— It’s true that I once took a ferry across the Balearic Sea to Ibiza to danceall night like an alien that hasn’t heard of sleep.—from “Crossed Letters for a Concerned American”, Volume 62, Issue 2 (Summer 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.Although, like many teenagers, . . .
Read More
I had a hole in my pocket I usedto fall through when I was little. Therewas never anyone there, just the soundthe dark makes when it’s ignoring youand the smell of coins someone found—from “Just Below Away,” Volume 62, Issue 2 (Summer 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you . . .
Read More
Rotisserie chickens tied uppre-chop: my skin melted, stuck,grease dripping on the floor.—from “Pure Pleasure”, Volume 62, Issue 2 (Spring 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.I started journaling when I was very young. I used to write these little poems and observations in the margins of books, too. . . .
Read More
“Later he won’t recollect who wore cardboard crowns– as always, he stayed sober, the dork calling cabsfor lightweights who couldn’t pace themselves till midnight.”—from “Size 12,” Volume 62, Issue 2 (Summer 2021) Tell us about one of the first pieces you wrote.As I child—was I in fifth grade?—I invested significant energy in . . .
Read More