Yes, This is Esther

By - Mar 18, 2018

Each hand resembles the mock pistol that people mock kill themselves with sometimes, hammer thumb and barrel fingers, and right now, frankly always, she feels like mock killing herself, mock ending it all right there at work in front of everyone…

Read More >

Excerpt of “Temporal”

By - Mar 12, 2018

I woke up to a bunch of shuffling and banging coming from upstairs. Then Cody’s dad, Larry, full-on burst through the bedroom door at six in the morning, still in his briefs, yelling, “Sam, Sam, wake up! Your folks, their house is on fire.”

Read More >

Two Prose Poems

By - Mar 7, 2018

I feel like a five-star restaurant, but I am a fish. I feel like an ethical imperative, but I am a listicle. I feel like an aesthetic, but I’m wrong. I am a listicle.

Read More >


By - Feb 28, 2018

People say there is such a thing as grief.
I will tell you about grief.
Grief is a few flinches a day.
Someday you’ll get over it.
When you die.

Read More >

Our Lady of Bleak Hearts

By - Feb 26, 2018

Shaver crawled through the broken windshield, sluggish as a drugged lion. Slowly more of him cohered. He spat another silver crown and tried to regain his land legs, relearning to walk across all that brown flatness.

Read More >

A Moral Point

By - Feb 23, 2018

Have you heard the story—about humans eating humans? No. Not about the famine in Russia. This one happened long ago in Japan. An old woman was eaten by an old man.

Read More >

Five Texts

By - Feb 21, 2018

I had wanted to keep an echo and so I found one that lasted for eighteen seconds, recorded it and set it to always play on loop. To help, Polly and I thought she could be not the echo but the whole wish itself and so we had many conversations about where she was.

Read More >

The President of Costa Rica

By - Feb 19, 2018

The world was designed for trees. Birds came later to move the seeds around. But people who label people toxic are the most toxic. They are worse than hippies.

Read More >

Being Gross

By - Feb 16, 2018

Ana had posted a picture on Instagram of her hand in a flower. I scrolled a little further. She’d posted a picture of herself holding a bottle of something I didn’t recognize in a city I’d never been to. I put my head down and walked in front of a car.

Read More >

Three Stories

By - Feb 14, 2018

The person was dressed in a dark pink and bright blue satin outfit. His face was painted faintly as if the make-up had been partly removed after hours. Whomever he was, or whomever he was trying to be, this individual had a magic sparkle around him.

Read More >

Being Alone

By - Feb 12, 2018

I masturbated on Sherman Alexie’s Pulitzer-Prize Winning The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian because I wanted to know what it felt like to be intimate with something great. All of my lovers have been less than fantastic. Nothing ever happens.

Read More >

Three Prose Poems

By - Feb 7, 2018

Will we be broken as light is broken in water, refracted, a trick? Even in our sleep we can’t forget. Stars eating stars. Blue water stippled with light. A shoebox full of teeth. A dog full of many other dogs.

Read More >