You were sitting beneath a chandelier made of bones. I couldn't make out the shade of your eyes. You're always in such a hurry. You were walking down Hyperion the other night, streets empty, feathers jutting out of your back. It's winter in May and I quite love to hate it. You're the type who likes to disappear right when things start to get good. The boys are back together and everyone's in town except it's desolate and nobody gives a damn, but there you are, smiling in the evening wind. Master architect, traveling salesman, a martyr amongst the desperate, far-from-ragged men of the greater Los Angeles area. Maybe this was a horrible idea. Or maybe it’s perfect.
Jenna Putnam is an American visual artist, writer, poet, and musician. Her work has been featured in magazines and literary journals such as Autre, Hero, The Sun, and Expat Press. She is the author of Hold Still( Paradigm Publishing, 2017) and is currently working on a collection of short stories.
image: Michael Leviton
More Web Features
Most Recent
- Neptune Unbound
Sona Lea Dombourian - FLUSH
Thora Dahlke - 2 Poems
wrath of persephone - MAN STRUCK BY STRAY BULLET, SURVIVES UNSCATHED
Cletus Crow - we remember what it's like to be in love: 3 poems
Tyler Dempsey - DON'T MAKE ME ANGRY
Greg Gerke - ONLY YOU CAN PREVENT SUICIDE
Sam Cooke - Connecticut
Nora Goodbody
Genres
- Fiction
- fucked up modern love essays
- Nonfiction
- Poetry
- Sports
- Interview
- Rejected Modern Love Essay
- Book Review
- Trip Reports
- More Genres