Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art

The Baptist

Every night I touch my lips to her face, lower them into the cold water of the creek bed, the water pushing around my mouth, making my teeth ache, closest I ever get to being…

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Embody

New York Times, October 24, 2019 LONDON —The 39 people found dead in a refrigerated truck trailer in southeastern England . . . .  We  don’t  know  much.  The authorities said they were Chinese.  Later, …

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Corn

Corn chips, on the cob, in a can, the mash-bill of his bourbon he was expecting, even the feed of cows turned steak, hamburger he ate no second thought, but then his soda, ketchup (all…

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An All or Nothing Machine

People don’t grow up the way they used to. By which I mean— sometimes I store trash in the freezer to make it to garbage day.              I harness the cold              to disinfect my jeans. My…

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Jiaozi

We never bought a food processor so I grind pork with a knife, criss cross muscle fibers, get as close as I can to the cutting board, knuckles battering bamboo. Ba prefers the rubber resistance…

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