In Urdu, there exists a phrase—nala-e-bebak: an audacious sorrow. 2007: When my grandmother died, she turned into a parrot. An obscure ritual was performed to determine what type of body she would be reborn in…
Posts tagged Winter 2024
Ruins & Stage Three
Ruins A child, two sizes too small. An improvised bomb on loan from the city’s museum of modern art. A plagiarist on the street corner tapping veins for the aftermarket haiku. A chamber maid removed…
Liminality, Organic Ambrosia
The lingua franca around here is produce. In the morning they arrive in droves, whole crops of apples drifting down the receiving ramp, packed breast to breast, these stubborn and hopeful things. Money and I…
Grapefruits, Melons, Cannonballs
All of my friends are cutting off their breasts. Top surgery. Breast reduction. The trans and the genderqueer and the top-heavy alike. It’s got me taking stock. Grapefruits, melons, cannonballs. Bazoongas, sweater puppies, jugs. Fun…
The Shortest Short King & Tourist
The Shortest Short King is the same height as an Emperor Penguin, a clown car, a median fourth-grader on roller skates, and though his stature isn’t a punchline necessarily, he behaves like Grade-A dickhead, buys…