Jason Zuzga

I can put an “it” into this and a “was.” I could put you through “this.” Or is “this” just a rehash of the same old plot and any dawn’s dumb tint, any discount trick to make a sale. Wait and see with me anyway what might find us sewn behind into our one spam […]

Flowers pull from mouth, tongue to tulip, back of head thrust back: there is no empathy tool fashioned to rub a tell from your tummy. The peat shovel slides right down through your leathered arms held horizontal to your sunken standing. More peat cubes to burn stack by trucks fueled behind homes. A pink stick […]