Prose

Where We Are

-1-   He came in the window and let some flurries into my room. I told him to close it as I shrunk into my blanket. He stood, nose dripping, for a second. Then I lifted the blanket and he whooshed in like a cold breeze and filled the spot. We kissed hard. The door… Read More Where We Are

Pull it.

Two years ago, I cloned myself using little pill capsules and a Bop It after paying some dudes in an empty Lowe’s parking lot. We parked where the lights just missed us and stood wedged between my gray Lexus and their bright pink Mustang. “It feels really cool are you sure you don’t wanna try… Read More Pull it.

How to Take a Pregnancy Test

Wait. Tell yourself that it’s just late. That you’ve been exercising a lot recently. Do mental math. Joke about it with your friends. Don’t tell your boyfriend. Buy a box of tampons at CVS and give your change to the homeless woman outside for karma. Put the tampons on your shelf, right there, by your… Read More How to Take a Pregnancy Test

In Conversation With A Hand Model (Whose Palms May Or May Not Be Containing The Universe)

Here, in my hands, is a bowl filled with everything you could ever desire. The hands that hold the bowl are narrow and smooth, without any bumps or blemishes. I make sure to maintain a clean and balanced diet for you, and to drink water and sleep with gloves filled with Vaseline at night, so… Read More In Conversation With A Hand Model (Whose Palms May Or May Not Be Containing The Universe)

Getting poetry advice from the internet

Write poems about what scares you they said, so I said here okay: I have a mood disorder. My moods are disordered, unruly, crazy-bitch moods. They’re radio waves, wound-up wire traveling horrifying frequencies. I wind up, I am happy? I can do this. I am singing, the dog days are over-er-er, the dog days are… Read More Getting poetry advice from the internet

It Fogged the Ziploc

When I was twenty-seven years old, I applied to be a City Carrier for the United States Postal Service, ZIP 94027. My parents disapproved. They felt I was throwing away my God given talents, the years of law school that I’d already completed, the tuition they’d already paid. They said that they would support me—at… Read More It Fogged the Ziploc

Musings of a perplexed blackmillenial

Good afternoon and welcome back to F U C K radio At F U C K radio we aim to provide the most satisfying content pleasurable to your ears Today’s segment is entitled Musings of a perplexed black millennial Remember when Jericho couldn’t be conquered? Occupation creeps on ya like that. THIS WILL BE NEEDED… Read More Musings of a perplexed blackmillenial

Terminal Island

Margot bites into her poppy-seed godsend and slumps in the passenger seat of the Volvo she and her sister share, powerless to her hangover. She takes chewing breaks to laugh at her sister Alex’s retelling of last night. Alex will not let Margot forget that she slept fully clothed, spooning between a plump, aspiring trap… Read More Terminal Island

Nine months of cross-pollination

At six in the morning on a Monday I helped Meredith out of my shower. She’d climbed in it, fully-dressed, while I was on the train back from work. This was after forcing her way into my apartment and giving my roommate a panic attack. She left a gross brown slurry in the shower, what… Read More Nine months of cross-pollination

Loose Change

The letter that had brought her to this very bench in Retiro Park lay folded neatly in her right hand. She didn’t like the way it felt in her left, where it would nudge the silver band on her finger. So there the letter rested in her hand, her hand on her thigh, her thigh… Read More Loose Change

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