August 2016
In this issue
Contents
Being Red
I haven’t really done much. The least I can do is write this down while I can. I was a lazy redhead – the sloth..
Grace and Jimmy
When I was a child, I saw my father as the Indian Jimmy Dean. He was a young god. That’s why my mother married him. ..
The Story of the Woman Who Fell in Love with Death
In an armchair at the center of a Starbucks, nearly hidden by its arms, a young boy reads, perplexed but concentrating hard: Once upon a..
Lighthouse
My son has ears filled with light It is filled so hard with light it Shuts out the noise. I pray he heals of blindness,..
How do you remember your childhood?
As a pair of overworn ghungroos, their gentle patter across the linoleum floor. My master’s feet fluttering around the room in circles. The poetry of..
Aunt Laura, Where’d You Go?
I sit at the edge of my driveway drinking an apple juicebox, staring at my purple toenails. I’m eighteen but parts of me have never..
Family History
Born 1931 Here, by afternoon the sun slants down like candelabra; heart of mangoes shimmied fairy dust on her back. My grandmother picks the thumba..