Pink, Beige, and Amber


The Martian still hasn’t adjusted to life in New York City. “I’m too old to learn new tricks,” he mumbles. At stoplights, he accelerates at green lights but stops short when they turn red in the rearview. Yesterday, he caused his eighth accident. Tomorrow, his tenth.

This is understandable, humans decide. Stoplights on Mars are pink, beige, and amber, and less sharp than those hanging on Earth.



Of Discord

All to the core you have me bitten, as if I’m the one to suffer from dysentery or rabies.


older than woven

i choke up flags and furniture
stretch them out in the sun


Insomnia

it’s been
so long / the night