August 2014
In this issue
Contents
Vagaries of Solitude
The thoughts of suicide cross my mind too often these days. In fact they began surfacing soon after your death, but I managed to thwart…
The Death Of One Thousand Cuts
There is a red pen in her hand. The lights are still on as Elizabeth opens her eyes. Enough light to read under. Her face…
Betrayal
Professor George Wallace complained to everyone about teaching in the big lecture room in Gilman Hall. He wore a red cashmere scarf to class in…
Gang Fight at The Quinceañera
I don’t like photos because they literally turn people into posers. When someone wants to take a picture, everyone stops what they are doing and…
Myth Making
I would have sat you down and explained, poured you a mug of coffee and placed it on that aqua-painted table we bought at the thrift store that winter in Alaska
Untitled
Bare every women and rip her on the streets, And spare not even your mother, own The pound for murder lingers no more,
Les femmes d’Haïti
Woman carrying basket of pineapple Atop her head, hair like an Arabesque carpet Woven with a million coarse black threads