Moonlight hiccups through the dirty windows, jumps around on our faces as the truck hits potholes. We’re already gone, smoking cigarettes.
the only person who texts me is my mom
mostly about how her back hurts
i send her a
proverb that says: you are as old as your spine
she replies: then i must be dead
my mom is always
It has been two and a half months since I’ve seen anyone other than Evan, my new baby, and my husband, not counting the rotating cast of delivery drivers who balance the occasional jumbo box of diapers on the top of the fence post by the gate.
I’m behind a snow plow, tonguing salt and exhaust fumes, white-knuckling a compact car, and screaming at a hamper of clean clothes to just keep from crying. Tom Waits is with me, wailing as we swerve, any of these songs seeming appropriate soundtracks to crash quietly into the ditch with.
He joins the queuing customers. He’d read the overhead menu when he drew closer. In the meantime he’d twiddle with his phone to avoid standing out like a statue. He wraps his scarf loosely around his
The night before the Super Bowl, we were drunk in Miami after hours of non-stop tequila Sprites.
When we were kids, my sister kicked this boy.
Victor Buono played King Tut in the 1960’s Batman show. He waddled in gold and red robes, his campy lisp at full-tilt. His voice warbled from his gut. He also played the Boston Strangler, a fat man in
The circular is peppered with the “free” of Buy One Get One Free, as opposed to the “free” that is both propaganda and sacred text. I know, in total, the Arabic for peach, name, gesundheit, and thank you.
im always in the wrong lane
And oh god it’s wonderful sitting here, drinking too much coffee, eating too many pastries, and loving everything about this moment.
Medical professionals are careful to point out that cerebral palsy itself doesn’t inhibit sexual desire or function, though studies show that most young adults with CP report physical problems related to sexual contact.
I went looking for her. He went looking for her. She went looking for her. They went looking for her.
We all went looking for her.
I look.
You look.
He looks.
She looks.
They look.
We
An immigrant from the Russian Empire invented jeans...
She never sticks around for harvest (though she convinced you to plant rosemary, lavender, zinnias, to think of time as a full moon, as a thrush’s song), you’ll say, but O the planting season. The spry seedlings at the start.
Each year, the clouds lowered. Each year, the boys' hopes crept closer to their grasp.
Arranged in front of Papa were a cup of coffee, his glass eye, and a shot of whiskey. One by one, they would patch him up before he left for work. The sun hadn’t yet chinned the horizon, and we sat
Still, he wants me to keep strutting down my freak lane, says “Gucci” like “Coochie” on “White Freckles”.
My almost-ex was freaking out in the way only men with egos can.
Always, I am navigating some half-abandoned landscape— part future, part past. Whenever I have a companion, it is my ex husband—the man who, after our divorce seven years ago, moved states away, leaving me to raise our kids mostly solo. On this particular morning, it finally occurs to me that these dreams may not be normal.
