my thumbs disengage from my body and their lonely stubs stink like eggs, so i suck them back on to leave the house in one piece. they tell me this book is giving birth to another. so what? what if each building were a different color? you would never run out of places where no […]Read more "sallm"
You realized your pain isn’t the only pain worth knowing after a slick rock flipped one hundred times in your pocket and landed on heads. How far did you travel to meet that medium: your hands in the clay of your making? Compressed so hot, change was the only thing you could see, fiery planet […]Read more "Out of the Museum"
When I was in middle school, my hobby was writing terrible historical fiction. There was the time-traveling doomed romance on the Titanic, and the Oregon Trail epic with no plot. But the tale I thought was going to change the American literature landscape was my revolutionary war novel, Eliza Jane. Eliza became a spy for […]Read more "Eliza in Spring"
My mother always told me when I came out of the womb I tried to emerge upside down and ass-end first. Posterior, facing the wrong way up and Frank breech, like a folding chair or a backwards diver in pike position dropping out of the safe water and into the high, bright world. Once they […]Read more "To The Top"