I met Angela for lunch at our old place, across the street from the bio lab where we’d labored so long over ova. Hard to believe a decade had passed since last we’d huddled over those glowing, backlight ghost babies, looking vaguely yolk-like on their slides. We’d been grad students of Jeffries’ then, trying to […]Read more "Dr. Athena’s Love Potion (Part One)"
When we were young, we all believed in something called earth changes. The coming of quakes, floods, droughts—natural disasters in increasing frequency and severity—pole-shift and climate change. Things of this nature. But we were not afraid. We were so young then we believed we cared more for the earth than we did for ourselves. We […]Read more "The Terrible Child"
We, the people, hold these truths to be self-evident—and why wouldn’t we? We all grew up together on the same street. The same warm puddle at the end of the Mezozoic. The same spiral arm of the Milky Way Galaxy. Though of course we’ve had our differences over the years. Even in the sea, we […]Read more "Omniscience, Part 3: We"
When you came along, I was clueless. Naïve, maybe, but who could blame me? There’d never been any such thing as you. Truth to tell, at the time, I just felt, well, not quite myself—and no shit, that was because I was also you. Before long, push came to shove, and there you were—you! So […]Read more "Omniscience, Part Two: You"
I am the way, the truth and the light, the om and the omen—I am, seriously, the rock of ages and the roll of the die. Alone in that wilderness of hydrogen and helium, that ever-silent night, I could hardly believe when I heard it: the sound of my own voice. I, alone! I, unique. […]Read more "Omniscience, Part One: I"
The first to go was a foolish man, who everyone said was a liar. He climbed a tree beside the docks one day and cut a coconut of unusual size. Within, he found the bone-white figure of a woman. Winged as any angel, she held the head of her enemy aloft in one bone-white hand. […]Read more "Nike"
I. To store files, computers compress information. Redundant information is easier to compress. Prose is more redundant than poetry. Therefore, computers prefer prose. Example: II. Caller: Hi there, I’m having trouble with my router. Support: I see. Have you tried unplugging it, and plugging it back in? C: Yes. S: Have you tried refreshing the […]Read more "Conversations with Robots"
I. She was always seeking the moment when life itself would pool around her, then expand. Sometimes it would occur within the confines of spiritual practice, serene and austere. Other times it would come upon her dead drunk in a bar with an acquaintance whose name she could hardly recall. The largeness of the moment […]Read more "This Is Scripture"
The way the clouds are with the mountain, let them be that way with me. Let the wind whip around me, keening. Let the clouds envelop me. Until I too am stripped clean of all knowing, a cool rock perched upon the hillside. You come to me, daughter, trailing danger. You seek solace from thinking. […]Read more "Superstitious Instrument"
My work is a game, a very serious game. –M. C. Escher A door with a brass handle in a long hallway creaks open; inside is a faded Oriental rug, and a lazy lion who looks up. It is a room of full of colors, masks moving, a masquerade. Bare breasts elevated to nervous heights […]Read more "Metamorphosis No. 1"