“You remember him as he was, so it is up to you, to remind the others,” the social worker tells me, which I take to mean, I have to remember that there were nights in Florida where the sky shattered open like a thirteenth century Ming vase, the silver energy of the troposphere cracking through […]
Contributors 90
David Greenspan: Colored Lullaby of God
The butcher is today thinking of throats, of their skin and fat and tendon. He thinks of opening his with a carving knife. The butcher leaves his shop door open. He hangs a sign from the window – The bloated stomach of a horse is not to be confused with something holy. Before the butcher […]
David Greenspan: American Mouth
The butcher is today thinking of knives. One to pull ligament from joint and joint from bone. One to carve muscle – this knife his favorite and often the butcher finds himself aroused as he slices roast for Mrs. Glass. One to cleave through gristle and scare teenagers. One to peel back skin. This knife […]
Emily Gordon: Movie Kisses
Tongueless stop-motions, more violent than carnal, they stand in for everything else, and when the lovers step back, they’re as dazed and sated as though they’d fucked for days, the way it feels after alien abduction or a long time-travel, that it’s been years—though anyone watching would say it passed in an instant.
Emily Gordon: I Find It Hard to Say Goodnight
I find it hard to say goodnight. Another tweet will stave the dread. They say a screen is just like light— I reach out, hungry, from my bed. At three, the Facebook works are slow. Despite its flaws, this day can’t die. The others with their touchscreens know What clocks to set their dying by. […]
Malisa Garlieb: Heart–Indigo
They’re a twenty-eight volume set sixth grade reading level, already fifteen years old. The last box to be moved I take them out to the station wagon four at a time, filling the passenger’s seat. I think of them as a person. Knowledge as gathered and edited humanity passed along in the code of words, […]