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“to mukethe” and “notjustyet notjustyet”

to mukethe come listen to the wind with me. those gulf storms are still blowing residual gusts east, only so much that it’s a nightlong pleasant rattle on the bedroom’s flimsy windows; not enough to wake you, but enough to shush you back to sleep. come home. is it okay to say that i miss you like a lost sense? that the corn plant whipping…

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For the Blood of Me

The month wanes. Soon my mother will make sure I swallow three shredded dates daily, for the blood of me. I say: no can’t you see it’s a chore to dig them out, tongue on teeth. And she says: no you must, for the blood of you and the good of me. So go out now and get those dates before you need to always…

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How Stories Get Lost

When I teach, I have students read to the class about a significant event in their lives. One young woman said she didn’t mind being locked in the cellar with her older brothers, but she didn’t think it was fair they had to share one plate of bread and milk. Her brothers were bigger. The class was silent and I rushed in to say something…

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Strange Features

I’m the type to go unseen in the world. I’m the milk of women. —Ellen Welcker Once while boarding a train Marilyn Monroe turned to a friend and said Do you want to see me turn it on? She didn’t change clothes, but suddenly autograph-seekers swarmed over her blue light. Sometimes it’s like that—deciding to be wanted. Wanting to be watched. A secret sonar sent…

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“My Beautiful Broken Brain”: Writing My Way Through a TBI

In the recent documentary, My Beautiful Broken Brain, a thirty-four-year-old woman in London records her recovery from a traumatic brain injury (TBI) following a massive stroke. While watching, I couldn’t help but relive my own experiences surviving a TBI, and the years following that catastrophic event. At first, I thought: I’m so lucky that my injury wasn’t so severe. Yet as the film progressed, and I…

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