Prose
Prose
Chocolate Man
I am chocolate man looking at blue man flashing his lights as he stops milk chocolate woman and light cafecito man.
Head in the Hole
It hadn’t occurred to Michael that his head might get stuck.
A Body in Motion
Arriving home in his private plane from an L.A. movie set, Rick can almost fool himself into thinking that he is famous.
Mama’s Boy
I am gripping my chest as my colleague attempts to reassure me. “The paramedics will be here soon,” she says.
White Trash
I remember a time when all I wanted to be was Trash.
A History of Tidal Physics
I drove with no GPS. After what happened, getting lost seemed like a good idea.
Madonna and Child
In the Soviet Russia of the 1980s, my mom chose not to tell me we were Jewish.
Sacred Spaces
People who claim spaces as sacred are usually referring to mountains covered in snow-dusted firs or ocean waters that received them in their brokenness and led them back to their unshattered selves.
Hard Feelings
The big clock on town hall marks the hour, the bells inside ringing and ringing.
What Used to Be
Most of the time I can avoid looking at my left breast — or whatever it’s called now — but when I do, I see the little red capillaries above and below the seven-inch scar snaking from my sternum up into my armpit.
