It’s okay to dig your grandmother out of her grave then chop wood and sit on a log that floats down the Susquehanna River.…
“If I, get to know your name If I, could trace your private number baby… I want some, want some. I set my sight…
After Rubens’ The Birth of the Milky Way The orphan, phlegm swallower, talks yolk through their broken shell without the strength to suckle a…
SUMPTUARY LAWS Familials, bureaucrats, and elected officials pitch hissy fits, bicker and dicker over minor infractions and petty expressions of opulence: the location of…
In case of a crash the insulin mobile will come in a rush to extinguish the sticky situation of how to explain why you…
my grandfather teaches me to slice a salmon into filets, watch how I hold the knife. through the gills, …
Remember the autumn of razor blades hidden in candied apples and peanut butter cups? That first bite of impossible alertness? We knew then…
Remember when we drank all that bourbon?— We know it’s not bourbon in Tennessee, Matt, and so J.D. isn’t really bourbon. Please stop telling us that…
Everything I like to drink has a mother. Not a mother with udders or teats, not a mother who alchemizes grass into cream. Everything…