Explore

That piece of flesh you’re with is a high school student, a minor.

A spider drifted down so slowly from the ceiling on a silver thread.

We were assigned straight to the lion’s muzzle, the Sardasht front.

I know what it means to be born in one life and meant for another.

What is greater: the distance between these bodies, or their need?

Here lies the girl difficult to discern. Here lies the girl misanthropic.

The judge’s mother was impossible; her mere presence was infuriating.

Any white man without a servant was presumed to be in need of help.

He had come to weavers’ Harris to make some testament.

May the dice throw their combinations at night. May it be June then July.

He was a child. He was dead. He was the shaft of a Long-tailed Astrapia.

She sits in her wax like a candle. A woman comes, a woman goes.

“The other kids. They’re making ice cream. I’ll show you, come on.”

What if Eve was an Indian & Adam was never kneaded from the earth.

Instead, I touch: The powdered organ. The thief-shaped hole.

My father then got partials implanted, which were later punched out.

When you are a father, want sons. There is some math in this.

The ashes of a human being are not ash. The body burns into wood.

She’d do anything once, to know what it was like.

Bad luck, like the white-scabs disease, can infect others.

He’s an excellent student. It’s just that . . . he thinks ideas are real.

I decide it’s as good a place as any to stop, pant & smell the roses—

Everyone roared at her wit. Ravenous children prowled like tigers.

I realized you were my fourth love, and the system was always doomed.

My mother used to cry in church seeing a child walk down the aisle.

Let those shadows sift the spirits of their children from the silt.

My wife fell in love with a dancer. A woman. I came here to get away.

Someone says Jesus is bread. He is also suffering. He is like the Internet.

Do we hunger after conflict as much as we hunger after justice?