Their shirts are blue and red, striped and checked, the collars popped, armpit seams untouched by antiperspirant. They are puppy-limbed and footed, eyes wide and unshuttered as lighthouses. The music doesn’t matter: Backstreet Boys, Bloodhound…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
Ruminantia
My grandmother only calls me to complain about deer and their incomplete bodies. Her backyard gutters with fog, so they bother her piecemeal. On monday she finds antlers stitched into moss and forsythia. Or on…
“Hope is the Thing With Feathers” and “Planetary Body”
Hope is the Thing With Feathers A Burning Haibun Here, April means storms. But that day, no one expected hail to bullet out of an open-mouthed sky. It rolled off the neighboring roofs, ricocheted into…
Kneeling in a pew, the straw-strewn
Sheep fell outside herselfpink anemone protrusion pinktongue splat wide between molarsa yell like a horn or stripeof gummy candy. O matted warmbody, curled around youngclumps of boneless massMother As we kneel, our elbows redin your…
Day Late Chuseok Greeting
She tells me it is a feast day because it is a day to honor the ancestors. She says ancestors in English and I can’t name the emotion I feel; if shame has an ambivalence,…