You’ll never truly know and will always be left wondering. Return to 1 for other realities.
ESSAY
FICTION
From the Archives: Sluts
“It’s blowjob never blow job. ATM is not where you take money out of a machine.”
WIT TEA
#That(baby)Girl
She’s too young to pronounce digraphs!
FICTION
Excerpt from False Prophet
My mother’s death had punctured some hole in me that drained all my confidence and joy. Everything felt wrong, so I did nothing, backing out of meetings with producers, retreating from every door success opened.
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From the Archives: When Joan Jumped Into the Sea
A small child can swim through the veins of a blue whale.
From the Archives: The National Gallery
I wasn’t pedaling across town to Capitol Hill because some legislative type was too embarrassed to rent porn videos in person.
We Were Singing
not dead but being embalmed; we were singing the whole / time – out of key, nonetheless, but singing
The Gleaner’s Daughter
Time and geography decide what counts as abundance. But abundance was not where I came from.
Q&A with Asa Drake, Author of Maybe the Body
I want to know if the language I’m using emotionally corresponds with the place I’m tying it to.
“I wish I didn’t know after neonatal loss” and “The Truth Is…”
To make room on that used, chipped baby blue end table by my couch like a heart—
