“and the water felt like crystals” you are saying, buzzing in my ear where the phone is
wedged between shoulder and cheek and
I am barely listening,
lost in myself,
Perhaps strange, perhaps vague… How things can break and almost mend themselves, A little strange. How we succeed ourselves. Pioneers barely dominate infinitely As Parthenon becomes a Laurel and laurels become…. Become. Franchise, monetize….value nothing is immutable. On the verge … Read More
Bee Hive, which happens to be a fifteen minute walk away from here, is just as awesome, actually more awesome because it’s more frequent and reliable and lasts longer and is overall a better investment for the whole family and … Read More
Editor’s Note: What follows is composed from features published in The New Yorker between September and December 2010. No alterations beyond rearrangement were made to the texts, excepting those that ensured gender, tense and number agreement.
My stomach is parched from having just peed into the muddled ground. And it hurts from having nothing to eat, no ring pops, no soda, no sunflower seeds. It’s an empty hole, a cosmic hole— it could collapse now into … Read More
A Haunting (Woman, Body) His death came first as an aching in her molars, then a numbness in her sinuses, then, finally, a filling up of her dreams with something warm and sharp and spit-pink. A room full of flowers, … Read More
We find imagination be the only defense against these leaves, fast cluttering my desk with pages I do not recognize— what beckons me to sleep and dream the silverfish that haunts my basement or looks the sounds of a smile? … Read More