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,…
Browsing Category Prose, Poetry, and Art
I Hide When the FedEx Man Parks Outside my Apartment
I do not want him to see me sitting in my recliner by the window. Only I am aware of this secret—that I ordered furniture online because it would be too heavy for me to…
Duck Blood Soup
The jar looks to be full of swamp water. Its contents swirl and leave grit on the glass when you turn it over in your hands. “Duck blood soup,” explains your mother. “Czernina.” It always…
Spill Your Guts
The first time I saw Laura Patterson’s guts was 6 years ago. We had just met, sophomore year of high school, when she sat down next to me in the library. We chatted for a…
WHAT WE WANT FROM OUR SUPERFOODS
I’d like my spinach to manifest childcare. Dan wants it to offer legal advice. Martha wants the spinach to fold her laundry, wash her dishes, and maybe clean the bathroom? Jennifer just wants the spinach…