blue sky was only sun. the kind that keeps you swallowing and raining for the duration of walks or the number of dark needles between your hard toes. warm water
Continue reading…the culpability of distance to burn a place by Micah Giraudeau
Catawba, Virginia nearest hospital: 20 miles My mother clings to the passenger side door of my father’s baby blue pick-up– to be traded for a minivan two years
we used to lay beneath each Sunday, hungry, hands like mouths on our answers, like tarnish on silver: didn’t we know the roots would remain—rely on the shade— permanence
Continue reading…What happened to the Chinaberry Trees by Clarissa Kendall
in the back of my Mazda Minivan, steaming like, Hot Worms wriggling up, drowning like, Indiana Jones in some pit, slowly gurgling out the last slips of air. my
I am God’s grand bravado, temporal. Whose hairline recedes like trees forested on a fleeting ball of dirt, and water. Several teeth decayed have been extracted. Soft breasts