God once said to me,Give me your Isaacor whatever most precious:your mother’s amethyst,a pot of plastic peonies from your first winter lover,or your one functioning kidneywith overworked nephrons,I defied Him.And for thatI live in a no-frill no-hot water flaton East Houston and Thirdamong drug peddlersand dirty pigeons,who squander sidewalk space.Share quarters with a drag queenwho…
Category: Magazine Content
Bullet the Blue Sky
It was the field of tiny yellow flowers that Chloe first started to remember. Gathering them up in her skirt. Making yellow flower bracelets under a blue sky. Where in the fuck was that? Chloe didn’t ever remember seein’ no blue sky. The sky was sulphurous and orangey, everywhere on Phalanges. Chloe had been to…
Rain
It is raining again. I need groceries. I have work later, but I can’t go out. I’m made of sugar. You think that’s funny? You’ve never been caught in a light drizzle and felt your face melt. I have. It’s hideous. Nose dripping into chin, eyes drooping, one twice the size of the other. Nothing…
Akela
had us in her nesting boxone evening every week creosote wood haven in a rustic islandoff The Ridgeway she had us filed in sixeshalf dozens in green plumagewool and skullcaps slippingover brylcreem short back and sides arms stitched with badges this weekday evening goddesshad us raising two stiff fingerstilted like pistol barrels at our heads…