American Smile

I clenched my teeth, seething at this age-old American innocence, the belief that at the end of the day, Americans meant well and, really, that ought to be enough. Enough to claim the perch of fame, the pedestal of saviors.



RECENTLY PUBLISHED


colored pencil drawing of a scapula and clavicle

CLAVICLE

I’ve classified myself and shaped my worth by my bones, by the skeletons of the people I used to be, and by the bodies of the people who left their marks on me.


photo of a dry, dead orange tree bearing dozens of oranges on its branches

The Orange Tree

Slaves, who did not volunteer to board the ships of chains and salts, and whose legacy casts a shadow much longer and darker than the fern, are not physically in this photo, yet their contribution is loud.


Tastes They Left

L. was a secret. You can’t know anything about him, except maybe that he stole a lot of coffee from Pret A Manger.


photo of a dark street during a blackout with people milling about

The Blackout

Soon today will be absorbed into all of those other days. And these words into oblivion.


A Guide To Tropical Seed Saving

I told her how a coconut will sit patiently, waiting for the summer rains to soak the ground beneath it so that it can begin life again. Some of them will shrivel up in the absence of water, their insides hollow as a drum.


Dancing Queen

Queerness is longing to be connected to history, community, culture. Seeing ourselves in the past is how we imagine ourselves in the future.