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  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    my sister was born as a holy mess, like an appendix like a grenade, a heart like a printer jamming when your final paper is due in five minutes, veins like chewed straws, salt columns for legs dissolving in water. like, she’s the blessed saint of falling apart. like, picture this brown ange...
  • Poetry > All Poetry
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    I thought I saw Jesus shirtless and sweaty today, and I thought, what of the bodily functions of the divine? That sort of thing really stinks of decay. He ran right into the street, into a car; I saw him ricochet, but he stood up, raised a hand. “I'm okay, I'm fine.” I thought I saw J...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    better fitting jeans lips that look less like pale puckered scars a jawline less like the edge of a bridge less chlorine in your oasis eyes less shouting when no one is listening less heat in your body less — boy, you’re really swell. like swollen wounds, like bloated festering blist...
  • Poetry > Free Verse
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    1. This is macadamia. 2. This is malnourished and uncomfortable. 3. This is a book of nightmares trapped within a chapel. 4. This is a time of violets, and this is a time of violence. 5. This is the baptism of your cold puddle eyes. This is the layer of holy water between your skin and my ski...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    Mary and Franklin Franklin was making fresh coffee. He knew that Mary would’ve just microwaved the coffee from this morning, which had curled at the bottom of the pot like a soggy brown fetus, but microwaves were too robust, and the coffeepot was quiet, bubbling to a climax against the cold. Even...
  • Fiction > All Fiction
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    I'm recalling the idea of a piece of a car caught between my back teeth: crunch, pain. Penance and stigmata and personal crucifixion, unless I’m reading too far into it, and the idea makes my molars ache in the daylight....

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