“Perhaps children of the early 2000s should be grateful for tamer coming-of-age protagonists who dealt with school bullies, boogers, and cursed slices of cheese within the vacuum of endless middle school.”
She had no plans to grow old, and she had no desire to feel her hips hurt (1). Minna was sitting by her grandmother’s bedside in Munroe Hospital when the woman called out in pain. Even though it has been nine years since her grandmother’s death, at night when Minna tries to fall asleep those screams still play like a broken record in her ears.
I see yellow spot ontology the razzle sunrays of elephantitic love-knots dazzling over my raspberry burst kisses in infinitudes of plenteous silence. When we see the L love of life-light Lincoln Center lollipops we will know our ship has sailed. … Read More
It has been a week of nouns weakening in applicability, often adjunct and defunct; this acronym owes more, to us, than onus. Mill mountain, noun, is promised to purge even itself, last sold in 1633, last whispered in Winchester, the … Read More
On February sixteenth, at author and professor Joyce Carol Oates’ reading in McCormick Hall, the front rows of the auditorium are filled with a veritable Who’s Who of campus luminaries.
I will die in Paris on a day of torrential rain,
a day I can somehow already recall.
I will die in Paris —I don’t flinch at the thought—
perhaps on a Thursday, like today, in the Fall.
I’ve been here for forty days. Each day is the same, by which I mean they are all different. The walls of my room are supposed to be beige, but they’re not. They’re grey. I tried to draw the solar … Read More
