47
Kia Corthron
Becky Albertalli
Never Trust a Man With a Pinky Ring
I.
When I was young, my father was full of aphorisms, some of which made sense.
Such as the time I was seven and got kicked out of school for fist-fighting a redneck named Jaxton. My mother quoted Christ’s Sermon …
daily routine
We don’t know how to move through this house the way we once did. Tía and Mama and Abuela and me, every hour of ours unfolding in a series of fours—four mugs filled up to the lip with café de …
The Forgetful Beasts
She said, Let there be stories; and there were stories.
As she spoke, her breath crystallized into the shapes of birds and beasts.
But the animals were forgetful,
so she had to teach them to remember the words that …
Why Can’t Middle Age Be Like Childhood But with Sex, Liquor and Hipper Boots
Some days all I need to be happy is a subway seat
and a Diet Dr Pepper. Other days I’m waiting
for the fog to spell out my name (it never happens).
I want to believe in the bulbous green …
vignettes of a lost wife
I.
It is April. Climbing roses crown headfirst through the soil,
ripening under my criss crossed legs without my permission.
The aroma of apricots hangs in the air like wet linens, tempting
the noses of churchgoing boys, but I refuse
…Don’t bury the dead
I’ve been broken
boy turned to drink
left to rust family-damp
with prayer I wish
he would just stop
digging in
graveyards.
We don’t bury the dead.
We remember the sky
likes to fall
down the throat.
We call it
…something that might make a suitable home
I wake up sweating. My nostrils are raw and peeling skin. I cough to catch my breath. I have no fever, no flu. I keep losing things. Last night it was my twelve-year-old daughter in a cornfield. We rode in …



