What are we even waiting for, and where is the line between resting, recuperating, giving up, and irresponsible avoidance?

Amy’s finally cleared up whatever’s been stuck in her throat.

Wait a year, or two, or ten. Or maybe you’ll wait two decades — squeezing through the cracks in eVerify and RealID until the bureaucratic walls grow too high and you must go under.

On October 10th, 2023, I rediscover a keffiyeh — a traditional Palestinian scarf — while unpacking boxes in my new apartment in Seattle.

maryland turns into my mother’s favorite place.

It’s Monday morning, April 2020, and I am trying to see if my dad has had a stroke from 800 miles away.

I tore through the Target, Hurricane Hooper hellbent / on proving that his skin was / crisp enough

In the photos taken before I wore it, the gown hangs from a grape arbor.

At the beginning of my future is me. At the end of my past, also me.

1. Start with a name / By the end of this pamphlet, you will be able to practice the art of waiting in three simple steps.

We’ve come to Des Moines for the funeral. Fitting / place: I’ve driven through every time I was leaving home to live / somewhere new.

The finest strand of dark green yarn / masquerades itself an accessory / wispy and frayed

This is how you keep your head down; this is how you thank God for this country: loudly so they hear / you;

The American dentist who shot Cecil the Lion once said, If I had known this animal had a name … I obviously wouldn’t have killed it.

in people. That whatever gods / I choose, I choose to love