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Jobs & Workexpand_morehe has come to write like nervous wasps in my mind like a grocery list.
Her last relationship was with Elsa’s Instagram, truth be told. If Elsa is going to accept her follower invite, it needs to look believable. You did a bad thing, she thinks, and this is what you get.
Grass grows, birds fly, waves pound the sand. I beat people up.
We had run out of every necessity. You name it, we didn’t have it.
“You look like you’re about to fall over,” he says. “Are you all right?”
I build our life together as I want it to be.
Even the busiest of businessmen are out for the count, paying the price.
Michael McGriff
Her biggest secret was Jay Currie—her white American boyfriend.
Here, Min Jin reads from her novel at Narrative Night, New York City.
You don’t know what it’s like to be so hungry that you’d steal to eat.
“If you love freedom so much, you shouldn’t think about going back.”
Youth! Goodness! Joy! Hope! Strange things to bring to a place like this.
’Tis with our judgments as our watches, none go just alike.
Why am I always asleep in your poems? Look at me Ben, when am I.
Lie down & whisper all your careless dreams into my votive ear.
Gerard sat in the shadow, watching his son steal about like a thief.
Gail Godwin
I wish I could tell him he’s not going to hell. It would be so freeing for him.
No matter how much money there is, it can always just drain away.
When I walked in, the kids applauded. They were like, “The poet’s back!”
What right does an American mutt like me have to depict in fiction the lives of a Salvadoran family?
This skinny blonde steps on the stage in a skimpy Balinese costume.
I’ve never heard of Badgley Mischka (A person? Two people? Man?)
Like superstitious sports fans, we played the song night after night. Since giving birth I’d become hyperaware of death.
She was here. She could not go on. It was the end—the end of the world.
Her knees seemed about to give way, and he quickly grabbed her elbow.
There was a ladder planted dead center in a field of high, thin grass.
Our grandmothers were bakers and nurses, spies and traitors.
Walking on Canal Street, I slipped on the curb and fell on my face.
