For Queer Kids Doom Scrolling Retweet a curse, a prayer or both, phone a shelter from the wolf that is everywhere but in front of you, in the small space where you are your own joy; there is no wolf here. There is no reason to give your joy to the wolf. Such a beast lives in code, lives in…
I’m standing on the shore with a burnt smoke in one hand and a beer in the other, and John’s talking but I can barely hear him over the roar of the fire. I think he says he’s leaving, but when I look at him, he’s still there and it’s not what he said at all. He said something different…
during the pandemic. She’s considered close contact, after a bad one-night stand. No symptoms, still she’s in lockdown. The text comes in from the boy, Freedom— what he saved in her phone. Freedom: got tested today. Her mind goes to the sex, lackluster. I’m positive. It’s been weeks—Why are you texting me? How long had it been, lockdown? A midnight…
He runs. He’s made the mistake of walking alone near the junkyard, after sunset, and come upon the dogs. Usually, a deftly thrown rock or self-assured shout will discourage them, but this time the lateness of the day lends desperation to their enterprise. Or perhaps, like the bigger boys who tormented him, these predators sense he’s weaker, and easier game.…
They Say Ten years ago, I married a sailor. They say sailors swear a lot, but my husband barely does. Actually, he’s kind of a disappointment in that area. I can swear him under the table, usually within the first few minutes of watching a football game. And as far as being drunken, my sailor rarely is. I think it’s…
I close my eyes and I can see you. Early, early in the morning pouring from the percolator one-handed telephone cradled on your shoulder stretched umbilical cord attached to the wall. Clutching your favorite lipstick-smeared mug chipped and blooming psychedelic flowers sipping the inky liquid, oily surfaced, burnt and bitter Chock Full O’Nuts on sale . . . because you…
At the top of the ladder of angels lies the highest ceiling of clouds before God, six wings, with eyes looking everywhere and nowhere at once. A seraph poses for a photo with God at a cocktail party. Stilettos emerge from long legs and the weather of Islands. She who dines with God listens, she who is not a seraph…
The day Paula arrived in Brooklyn, a Sunday in late August, the rain came down in gray arrows that covered the windows of the livery cab that she rode in like a cloth. Paula could only make out the shapes of buildings, like dark teeth in a fog. It rained for the entire week, and she didn’t leave her room…
He nearly killed us just after our eleventh anniversary. Glossy pages of the wedding gift guides call it the steel year. A shiny alloy of carbon and iron, strong yet malleable, what makes the bones of buildings, supports bridges, and for many years, served as the exoskeleton of automobiles. My partner and I had orbited the Chevy Malibu in the…
My walker catches on the splintered plank floors of the front porch. I push hard and plop into the wicker chair, flattening the cushion Ruthie sewed thirty years ago, sun-faded and fraying. White paint is now grey, and the porch overhang is peeling in strips, brown wood showing through. I am an old man in an old house. A big…