Mammal Raised by a witch and her twelve familiars, in a drafty cabin, in a cursed crab orchard, above the blue-black mud of Tricky's Cove. A swamp witch with twelve cats and a Mexican mutt named Chico, taught me the symbols of sacred texts…

The Gleaners Caught in the splash of our cruising headlights as we slow to creep over a tectonic speed table, two men in rags overcoats and hoodies push chromed shopping carts, dark down deserted sidewalk. Side-eyes…

The letter j is didactic as fuck It just happened one day that i no longer felt strong enough to convey a specific message. For centuries we had drawn i as j to signify the end of a numeral. For millennia we enslaved each other arbitrarily…

Don't listen to the brochures 1 I would see this rock, poking up through the melting clapboard, shingle, stucco, at the end of the House Age. All you see is a cliff, keep driving. The area is still very scenic, in spite of the missing icon…

Crystal Cups A jet flies in overhead for a landing. Engines make a lonely call as they strip down the air. Notes descend – plaintive whine to resigned hum. Soon, they'll be on the ground. these unknown people having traveled…

That Day Came Someone married their car. They found great joy in the way some parts of it were proud and others shy, and vibrations of the revving engine. They added aftermarket ground effects to increase its sex appeal. The owner’s manual…

The Time Given –Where is it that fills the deepness I feel? You will say I'm not Robin the Hood, but how could I hide from top to foot, that I lost something in the hills? – Sibylle Baier, I Lost Something in the Hills I do alright by forgiveness…

Bite Your Tongue After: Of Silence. Drowned the Sound of Your Retreat by Jennifer Elise Foerster That was one way to let go, what identity borne in discussions of cats passed, by this cupboard of shadows scattered dusk-bound. The…

Ain't Even Snowflakes fall into your ears. They are just heavier than air – just. Crystal forms melt on warm lithic bodies. Nostalgia wants us sickly. Nothing ever was real but once, and you blinked. Done tried to relive over…

DISTINCTION after INTIMACY by Ada Limón I detected in Almanac of the Dead, a clear, severe irony erupt between the limited author and a boundless conceit— the way whiteness codifies a lack of differences, of detailed vision…

Lipograph Neutrinos fall through matter like shadow. Velvet lips twtch. Graveled edges blown onto dry stone capillaries, a knife out of water. Compressr/sustainr expresses sounds roundr, explicit – rattle the quakng…

clock to wake up at nine am is a sign of depression. So, I picked up this plastic analog alarm clock and felt it go silent in my grasp. I dropped it, falling fastly back asleep. When I woke up in the afternoon to prepare for another night of kevlar…

My mother's house was on a partially isolated plot of land adjacent to a highway, but situated down a long, muddy dirt driveway. There was one neighboring house occupied by a neighbor family I had known my whole life. They, however, were about…

Having hot flashes every day for a year, they were panic attacks, they were a manifestation of a superpower, they were an excuse for how I was coming to meet the world as a newly adulthood knighted man. I longed to disintegrate. Seeking out intellectual…

with an innocent face. He made about eighty dollars and tried to give me half. I told him to keep it, for the veterans. I was not interested in money, and this was not a circus gig, I was doing the lord's work, and I didn't mean Jesus, I meant…

wasn't even sure what I looked like anymore. Before I got sober, I remember staring at selfies taken on a Motorola Cliq. The grainy images blown up on an HP laptop. Black bags under my eyes, sallow flesh on a sad expression. Who even are you…

wish I still had those shirts. People I'd just met would be staring at my chest for some time, a creeping feeling of unwell shadowing their faces, and they would ask, what's on your shirt. Being able to tell them was likely the highlight of any…

The hot flashes had been the penumbra of an advancing torment. The idea was floated many times that, if I wanted to, I could turn the ship around. I could simply chose to look away from the other worlds I was seeing. That a smart, young, white…

was excised like a human tumor from her life, we visited Bobbi-Jo at Dunkin Donuts, where she worked. She gave me a coffee and Pepper asked me to take Brick for a walk so they could spend ten minutes together. I took the coffee and the dog and…

A postindian is a person formerly referred to through the caricature of manifest manners as an Indian. The postindian is a presence. There is nothing to believe here. Postindian warriors can be honorable or dishonorable and anywhere in between…