Cold

The cold is a thing any woman can grow accustomed to. Lacey May learned how…

Backward Through the Story

I’m going to go backwards through this particular part of my story because I hate…

i watch papa bury our dog in a grave the size of a pond

  mauve, sprigs of oleander— ceilings shedding water stains in shapes of crooked eyes—my jaws…

Poor Girls’ Palace

Our mother had been gone now for eleven days. Her longest recess yet. Recess is…

derrame

  They call it the shoreline, el abismo que tiene poder too wide to hear…

Still Life

I lie and say this scar’s a gift from my cat. Three inches long, hypertrophic,…

An Introduction to the Monster (Novel Excerpt)

Thank you for that New Year’s Day. That day the monster was on my back.…

Ain’t That Good News

  Florence Holmes kept her knife in Psalm 94.  An eight-inch stiletto with a pearl…

On Eschatological Radio Angels Flying in the Troposphere

Millennial engineers of faltering air, not eschatological radio angels tighten struts, bolts, and cantilevers of…

Three Poems

  I never met Bill Cosby but I met Beverly Johnson at Magic Mountain with…