Unlike most mothers, I gave birth to my daughter Setsuko not once, but twice.
ESSAY
The Seven Devils
Whether he met his fate in the mountains, or the mountains became a route of escape, the secret of what happened to the missing man is now forever guarded by the Devils.
MICRO
Ode to Sweet Potato
Sliced, diced, fried. Boo, I think about my thighs ; what it would be like if you had thighs; how we’d cuddle, convincing ourselves we’ve been here before. We mesh and mash so well together. You home. You castle. You market where spices thicken the air: turmeric, ginger, cinnamon, nutmeg — fold into you like […]
POETRY
In Praise of my Threaded Eyebrows
A seed that gave birth
to a legacy worth each bruised
palm from each time you lose
your grip
& fall to roots or feet,
bare feet.
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Excerpt from Did You Find Your Killer Yet?
Brave and smart and idiotic and trusting and head-of-fluff girls die. All the time. In horrible ways. The world is cruel.
I am the Joy Your Mother Felt Before You Made That Face in Response to Her Kitchen Singing
So how ‘bout the next time you see your mother shaking and bending, keeping yet transcending time, and building toward a chorus, please feel free to take your visceral facial reaction and shove it into a book, or smash it against a digital screen.
The Matador
She tempts / death & leaves me, her mistress in the stands, / silk handkerchief between my teeth.
House of Worship
The most consistent yet overlooked character of any horror is easily the haunted house.
