I am not sure what blinding light my mother saw as a small child, but her future was much darker than whatever caused her to squint up at the sky as she stumbled across a …
Essay
You Go, I Go
I used to be a firefighter. And among the many important moments I had in the fire academy, two come to mind. The first was when I acknowledged the fact that there was a very real possibility I could die …
No Exceptions (A Visit from Yellow-Yellow)
Always about the Adirondacks is a pileup of loosely held, emphatically shared rumors. Alongside skiing, climbing, kayaking, and hiking—spreading gossip, and quizzing its sources, is local sport. Each time I return, I’m greeted with stories of varying validity. Once, asking a retired neighbor why this hobby seemed, in our experience, more commonplace among ruralites than city dwellers, she simply shrugged and yawned out: Something to do.
How to Breathe
- Choke
Over text, an old friend tells me he’s learned how to “choke a bitch” since we were last in bed.
I was drinking bourbon and ginger, much like I am now, thinking about his particular phrasing, remembering how timid …
In Love You Learned
How to break a book at the spine, how to rip out the pages without tearing them, how to cut them into
origami squares & how to crease the paper just right. How to fold a bunny, how to fold …
Leavenworth
We’d go skating on Friday nights. Crawl from the backseat of a Trans-Am or a busted Volvo wagon. It didn’t matter how we got there, just that we did. We’d walk down Metropolitan Street, past the prison, acting tough, hoping …
i become a mind reader
at recess, before a throng of candy-blooded classmates. i put on a fruit loop necklace & clap purple chalk on my palms & mumble “abracadabra” to fashion the illusion.
it’s all smoke & mirrors, of course. the real trick is …
A Missed Prayer
I had never attended Eid at a mosque before. Never knelt to bow my face to the earth for salah or prayer. I could hardly recite al-Fatiha, the opening and most principal verse of the Quran. I’d only ever …
Tradición
A breeze. The sun sat high enough to burn my skin, but sitting under the thick branches and leaves of my grandpa’s orange tree protected me. A shade thick enough to withstand the glare of the sun. If I closed …
Trans Icons from the Farm
I’m all read up on Frans de Waal and Temple Grandin, long since well-convinced of animal consciousness. Herein I contend their ontologies too are more complicated than we give due for. Nature simplifies, yes, but does not flatten.
Out on …
