Every half hour Jim takes me and Mike out for a smoke break. I had never smoked before but seen enough to pretend. The cigarette burns my throat dry and scratchy.
Issue Fifty-Two
How to pack favourite cities into suitcases
Hold Edinburgh by its coastal edge and start rolling. Flatten the pathetic sliver of murky grey they call a beach, and wrestle those chip stealing seagulls into submission.
Friends Like These
Listen closely. Never owe someone a favor. You might find yourself locked in a bathroom, clutching a half-empty bottle of wine, during an engagement party for the ex-girlfriend you haven’t seen in ten years.
Tragedy
There are about 90 million dogs in the world, and each and every one of them, no matter how pampered or puny, is descended from the wolf.
Vintage Protein Powder
… of course real sugar + actual gin is better for one than what I’ve concocted just now, just right now, which simulates a daiquiri if you close your eyes + ‘member those afternoons outside of the Mirage in Las Vegas.
Your Pelvic Floor Holds Psychic Wounds
the PT says, sliding her gloved finger inside me. We’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts. Even empathy needs consent.
Glassdom
This is Glassdom.
Allow me to describe: the trees along the city’s broad boulevards, those I thought to be poplar—they are glass, as is much else.
Notes to a Dead Mouse
I was on the toilet when he brought me your corpse. Instead of reading the back of a shampoo bottle, I had the sheer disgust of hearing your bones give way beneath feline fangs.
Moving In
Mona’s toenails. Let me tell you.
I was in the shallow end of the pool with my eyes just above the water, like a soldier in a jungle-war movie, getting ready to rapid-splash Daryl, my son, who’d just cannonballed me.
Thai Food and Turnip Greens
Every writers’ meetup ended the same way. Some grad-school peacock in a scarf would flap his hands and say, “Let’s get ethnic food,” like he’d just caught a case of the white-liberal munchies, and we’d wind up at a Thai place. Every time.
Kindest Regards
I could have texted you or called but this is one of those hand-written kinds of moments.
Soap
Here’s the thing: I never did manage to get divorced, but my husband was never my Prince Charming. Till death do us part was the vow we made, and death just so happened to part us prematurely, meaning slightly earlier than Neil might have liked.
The Dog, Though
I scrolled through the news while my cereal softened. A war widened. A politician denied something. A celebrity apologized.
The Leaves Only Turn Aquamarine
Fuchsia walls press into your back, spurring you toward the plunge. The end of a winter that has learned your name.
Exhibit Z
A blank canvas.
An IV runs
from my arm
into the colors.
What Do You Do for a Living?
I always lie when someone asks me a question. Not to be rude. It’s because if I don’t want to be a liar, the only answer I can give is I don’t know because I don’t know anything.
A Series of Near Miracles
Almost, you sailed into my high school graduation on only hope and paper cranes. Little pastel birds clinging to the seams of your suit-shoulders and the tendrils of your rusted hair, pulling you toward me.
Recent Credits
Oscar Mayer / “The Weinermobile Heads to Kentucky” / Regional
Strongman
Most agree that the contortionists took their act too far when the troupe clung to each other’s waists, bending their limbs, tucking in their chins to form a swastika from the arrangement of their lithe, leotarded bodies.
The Quiet Game
my father drives us through the canyon on our summer road trip explaining the wondrous swirling lines that form on red rock walls from piling sediment and sand and generations of erosion
Let it Be
Winter’s black-and-white array of skeletal trees against snow has begun to reanimate, the first tentative buds peeking out from hardy sheaths as if fearful of making a full appearance, lest they be battered by vicious winds and other unpredictable elements.
Three poems
mauled my hand sinking shards of marigold glass into flesh. A savage display of dominance. At least, that’s what he believed in his tiny dog brain.
I was a Bicycle on a Country Road
Your brother stuffs a rock in a gym sock so people don’t fuck with him. He helicopters it over his head. It’s embarrassing that he has a swinging sock and everyone can see him like that.
Rx
Take one glass of wine for each of your current problems: one glass for the husband who is ‘taking time to process things’; one glass for the promotion you deserved but didn’t get because you fucked things up, and not in the interview
Vortex, No Counter
I don’t know why people call it a cold sweat. When I wake up with my sleep shirt plastered to my upper back, I’m steaming hot. Damn estradiol patch must’ve expired. When did I change it last?
Employee Complaint Form
Your name: Laurie Porter
Date: 9/24/28
Occupation: Cashier
Sally Sells Shells By The Seashore
My nursing supervisor floats me to the perpetually understaffed ER. Luckily Monday nights are less popular for auto accidents and near drownings in our tiny seaside town. I’m assigned “the concussion.”
Badges to Adorn Your Motherhood Sash
Snow Day Badge. Discover how parenthood decimates previously fun experiences.
Continue for 12 Miles
i know i turned it off because i remember turning it off, i remember the click, or i remember thinking about the click, which is different but not different enough to help
The Tax
On Sundays, I often run the Hudson. We live six miles south of the George
Insomnia Chronicles XLI
The night is full of insomniacs googling insomnia. I ask the waiter for a glass of cab—cabernet sauvignon—and he thinks I’ve ordered Tab, the original diet soda.
Summer of ’76
That summer of 1976 the bicentennial celebrations burned with fireworks and hot dogs, background to my quiet high school graduation followed by that unforgettable July 4th at the lake when I smoked weed and took a chance with my first guy
Home Range
A bird-ghost dive-bombed me outside of the Tobago shopping mall, squawking that I was an imperialist, a colonizer of the old Latvian Empire
Three Poems
She considered me a dandy. That’s why she loved me. That’s why she hated me.
Esmerelda to the Doctor
Esmerelda had a way of sucking on gumdrops then flinging them onto the wall with a straw. This particular day, she was enjoying the mosaic she was creating—dahlias and posies by a bright shining sun, a gondolier, and a Spanish tapas spread—when Mother entered, dodging a speeding green blob, to announce a certain visitor.
Night Shift
Every half hour Jim takes me and Mike out for a smoke break. I had never smoked before but seen enough to pretend. The cigarette burns my throat dry and scratchy.
How to pack favourite cities into suitcases
Hold Edinburgh by its coastal edge and start rolling. Flatten the pathetic sliver of murky grey they call a beach, and wrestle those chip stealing seagulls into submission.
Friends Like These
Listen closely. Never owe someone a favor. You might find yourself locked in a bathroom, clutching a half-empty bottle of wine, during an engagement party for the ex-girlfriend you haven’t seen in ten years.
Tragedy
There are about 90 million dogs in the world, and each and every one of them, no matter how pampered or puny, is descended from the wolf.
Vintage Protein Powder
… of course real sugar + actual gin is better for one than what I’ve concocted just now, just right now, which simulates a daiquiri if you close your eyes + ‘member those afternoons outside of the Mirage in Las Vegas.
Your Pelvic Floor Holds Psychic Wounds
the PT says, sliding her gloved finger inside me. We’ll go slow. Tell me if it hurts. Even empathy needs consent.
Glassdom
This is Glassdom.
Allow me to describe: the trees along the city’s broad boulevards, those I thought to be poplar—they are glass, as is much else.
Notes to a Dead Mouse
I was on the toilet when he brought me your corpse. Instead of reading the back of a shampoo bottle, I had the sheer disgust of hearing your bones give way beneath feline fangs.
Moving In
Mona’s toenails. Let me tell you.
I was in the shallow end of the pool with my eyes just above the water, like a soldier in a jungle-war movie, getting ready to rapid-splash Daryl, my son, who’d just cannonballed me.
Thai Food and Turnip Greens
Every writers’ meetup ended the same way. Some grad-school peacock in a scarf would flap his hands and say, “Let’s get ethnic food,” like he’d just caught a case of the white-liberal munchies, and we’d wind up at a Thai place. Every time.
Kindest Regards
I could have texted you or called but this is one of those hand-written kinds of moments.
Soap
Here’s the thing: I never did manage to get divorced, but my husband was never my Prince Charming. Till death do us part was the vow we made, and death just so happened to part us prematurely, meaning slightly earlier than Neil might have liked.
The Dog, Though
I scrolled through the news while my cereal softened. A war widened. A politician denied something. A celebrity apologized.
The Leaves Only Turn Aquamarine
Fuchsia walls press into your back, spurring you toward the plunge. The end of a winter that has learned your name.
Exhibit Z
A blank canvas.
An IV runs
from my arm
into the colors.
What Do You Do for a Living?
I always lie when someone asks me a question. Not to be rude. It’s because if I don’t want to be a liar, the only answer I can give is I don’t know because I don’t know anything.
A Series of Near Miracles
Almost, you sailed into my high school graduation on only hope and paper cranes. Little pastel birds clinging to the seams of your suit-shoulders and the tendrils of your rusted hair, pulling you toward me.
Recent Credits
Oscar Mayer / “The Weinermobile Heads to Kentucky” / Regional
Strongman
Most agree that the contortionists took their act too far when the troupe clung to each other’s waists, bending their limbs, tucking in their chins to form a swastika from the arrangement of their lithe, leotarded bodies.
The Quiet Game
my father drives us through the canyon on our summer road trip explaining the wondrous swirling lines that form on red rock walls from piling sediment and sand and generations of erosion
Let it Be
Winter’s black-and-white array of skeletal trees against snow has begun to reanimate, the first tentative buds peeking out from hardy sheaths as if fearful of making a full appearance, lest they be battered by vicious winds and other unpredictable elements.
Three poems
mauled my hand sinking shards of marigold glass into flesh. A savage display of dominance. At least, that’s what he believed in his tiny dog brain.
I was a Bicycle on a Country Road
Your brother stuffs a rock in a gym sock so people don’t fuck with him. He helicopters it over his head. It’s embarrassing that he has a swinging sock and everyone can see him like that.
Rx
Take one glass of wine for each of your current problems: one glass for the husband who is ‘taking time to process things’; one glass for the promotion you deserved but didn’t get because you fucked things up, and not in the interview
Vortex, No Counter
I don’t know why people call it a cold sweat. When I wake up with my sleep shirt plastered to my upper back, I’m steaming hot. Damn estradiol patch must’ve expired. When did I change it last?
Employee Complaint Form
Your name: Laurie Porter
Date: 9/24/28
Occupation: Cashier
Sally Sells Shells By The Seashore
My nursing supervisor floats me to the perpetually understaffed ER. Luckily Monday nights are less popular for auto accidents and near drownings in our tiny seaside town. I’m assigned “the concussion.”
Badges to Adorn Your Motherhood Sash
Snow Day Badge. Discover how parenthood decimates previously fun experiences.
Continue for 12 Miles
i know i turned it off because i remember turning it off, i remember the click, or i remember thinking about the click, which is different but not different enough to help
The Tax
On Sundays, I often run the Hudson. We live six miles south of the George
Insomnia Chronicles XLI
The night is full of insomniacs googling insomnia. I ask the waiter for a glass of cab—cabernet sauvignon—and he thinks I’ve ordered Tab, the original diet soda.
Summer of ’76
That summer of 1976 the bicentennial celebrations burned with fireworks and hot dogs, background to my quiet high school graduation followed by that unforgettable July 4th at the lake when I smoked weed and took a chance with my first guy
Home Range
A bird-ghost dive-bombed me outside of the Tobago shopping mall, squawking that I was an imperialist, a colonizer of the old Latvian Empire
Three Poems
She considered me a dandy. That’s why she loved me. That’s why she hated me.
Esmerelda to the Doctor
Esmerelda had a way of sucking on gumdrops then flinging them onto the wall with a straw. This particular day, she was enjoying the mosaic she was creating—dahlias and posies by a bright shining sun, a gondolier, and a Spanish tapas spread—when Mother entered, dodging a speeding green blob, to announce a certain visitor.