The woman two seats down with her slim cigarette is laughing into her phone, somewhere a phonograph plays a twinkly tune—How’d that get in here?—and the train, which is a living machine, thunders north. It’ll take us to where we need to go. Right now,...
A collection of half-poems written when half-asleep Have I Said Too Much? Do not speak of it. We know what happens When things are spoken of. Is it Salt or Am I Jesus? Something in my hair I wonder what. Is it salt or am I Jesus? What’s the reason I float? ...
On her fifth life, Georgia stops trying to save the world. She gave it her all. She gave it four of her alls, actually; didn't even stop after the lucky third try left her smoldering on the metaphorical barbeque of a distracted amateur griller. Georgia spent...
I want to be a Girl The way that angels are girls: With flowing white cotton hugging waists, Bare feet that won’t be made to bleed by the glass they step on. Ephemeral physicality, but a forever impression. But I am only a girl In that I blush when you say...
Around twelve he slipped into the boardwalk diner; a cheap little place that reeked of nineties sensibilities. He’d had too many beers to pass for sober, but too few to really be drunk. His belly was warm. His vision spun softly when he looked in...
The Aestheticism movement of the nineteenth century emphasized pleasure and experience. However, it also perpetuated a gendered hierarchy between the spheres of men and women: men dominated the public while women faced confinement within the domestic. Male artists and flâneurs had the privilege of observing...
streaming into the liffey down the street, rivers white and lovely ...
I never liked country songs until I listened to them, and you never liked me until you met me, so I guess we're even. And every few months, I find flowers molding in my textbooks and in all my drawers are those crushed paper swans, the ones you folded from...
June 2002, Before It was early in June when the storm hits us. It didn’t do much damage, besides ripping away one of the biggest branches from the maple tree. Just a week after we moved into this house, our neighbours told us about that half-dead, century-old...
the words fell off my tongue like the filling from a tangbao skin inflections leaking out the sides spilling broth down my chin my throat burned but i swallowed the sound. ...