To the child born in the age of technology, we will bring you gifts unlike you could ever fathom, floating in your muted world of white light and noise. Into this weary ol’ world we’ve kept up appearances: See how …
i am made of cardboard, subway steam and the iron grate. i hover on the forgotten side of town, blending in with the weeds that tunnel up through the cracks of the sidewalk, avoiding strangers, hawkers, bible stalkers come to …
Grown from ancestral clay, arising through cracked earth, reaching toward falling stars. Unknown to the daisy, she’s the last of her kind, still she grows toward the sky. This beautiful flower has one last protector. A boy. He wants only …
after Last Supper by C. Maxx Stevens Bountiful beads remain bound in their skins, staining the floor with colors, washing into dirt from the ground we’ve walked away from To become modern, as they say, rolling into drive-thrus our hands …
Dear June, I’m writing this from a roadside motel—yellowed as an old postcard from an intense sun. It’s adjoined to a onetime “fifties diner.” Now, since the 90s, a Chinese family’s restaurant. They, the Lu’s, also clean my room a …
Humanity blinded by their moonless night struggles to see. Even distant stars fail to give them a picture. Humanity hurdles down its Black Road, urgently seeking a destination. Their starless night shrouds everything… as they rip through the world around …
The other day I counted 103 headstones in the cemetery behind my school. I also counted 10 unmarked graves. The last person to be buried in that cemetery, …was Cecilia Mae Fiddler. She died in 1943. But they don’t bury …
As I board the train French blasts through the speakers, “S’il vous plaît prenez votre siege.” (Please take your seat.) I take my seat next to an English woman. I notice she is wearing a bright red hat even before …
Looking into the distance, the ground looks as if it bumps the sky Solitude and vigilance can be a fierce force She rises every morning with the breath of the middle star Always silent amongst the rumble Reaching tall, standing …
Do you live in a tipi? Do you ride a horse? Can you do a rain dance? Well I’m Indian—of course Let me ask you some questions, Was your great-grandma a queen? Were your greedy ancestors Who my giving ones …
