Medusa’s Defense
What was my sin? That my father, Phoebe, never taught me to swim? That’s my alibi, our reason, and I […]
What was my sin? That my father, Phoebe, never taught me to swim? That’s my alibi, our reason, and I […]
Sixty-two years since the last sighting, ornithologists say they’ve spotted one somewhere along the lip of the White River, its
The woman you were when you left them. The silhouette sorting through your garbage, in search of aluminum cans and
The Temps, all swerve and pivot, conjured schemes that had us skipping school, made us forget how mamas schooled us
Consider the arching hips, the buttocks squeezed, thrust upward and then pressed to that metal lip, almost sexually. Consider the
There is one street-light in the twenty mile stretch violet kryptonite. We are walking three in a row wax idols as earth melts