Fiction

Poetry

Opposable

How do I write with these frantic fingers Left index plugs tearing right aorta Right hand holds closed ripping left ventricle I am hopelessly, entirely

Short Story

Wednesday

  It’ll be a Wednesday. It’ll be cloudy outside. There will be fog creeping over the ravine and remnants of an early-morning rain still drifting

Fiction

Dreamless Nightmare

  I have not always had my medication to protect me from epilepsy, to keep my hand steady while I handled boiling grease and kitchen

Poetry

Skirt

I. I see a video of women cycling in short dresses talking of how not to flash. They wide-angled their legs, pull the back of

Short Story

A New World

  While he sleeps I catalogue his body. When he is awake I keep my distance. While he dreams I touch and map in a