Issue One

Expecting

I. When she was pregnant with our son, my wife, Rebecca, and I watched a lot of documentaries. About babies. Learned how far we’ve come, medically speaking. More so how far we haven’t. Unnecessary inductions, impatient doctors pressuring women into C-sections because...

The Shape of Another Life

We tell the children not to look up, expecting a miracle. During dismissal, a coworker asks if the moon is supposed to affect her like this— to change the way she sleeps with her husband and she expects me to have the answers, like I keep them in my palms. The moon...

Black Bittern

Always reacted bad to happy—crushed it when I could like a gimpy bird squirming under my work boot— at two I chucked a metal Tonka truck into the TV to shut my sister's singing to Big Bird on Sesame Street—drove fists into the cake my mom made for my birthday—a tiny...

Reading Morgan Parker in the Ninety Degrees

I would have let you borrow my Morgan but I am moving down south at the end of the month   for economic reasons and to help a broken heart. My rent will be low so I should buy you ten Morgans   and raise you a Beyonce in the Gaga. August nights in New York...

MEEK BLACK WOMAN (as told by an art historian)

Slide 1 (2014) A MEEK BLACK WOMAN sits in front of the camera, speaking to the audience. Nose ring and disheveled hair adorn the MEEK BLACK WOMAN’s face and morning daylight is cast from the right side of the frame. The MEEK BLACK WOMAN’s “obsessional art emerged as...

Twisting Allys

Spencer doesn’t know it yet, but Ally is about to spring a fake pregnancy on him. She’ll tell him in the morning, in their bedroom with the door wide open. She’ll lie about her symptoms and the doctors appointment that never happened at the clinic down the road. After...

When the Smoke Clears

It is that kind of summer when all your fucks and waste and wading hang out and you are being swallowed half way and sucked on the rest you are returning spit and there is a quilt that don't get as dark as the black comforter your mama threw away there are shared jars...

Places Satellites Go To Die

Just a few days short of our tenth wedding anniversary, my wife asks me if I’ve ever heard of the Poles Of Inaccessibility. Naturally, I lie and turn away. My attentions are elsewhere, what with the match being on and us the wrong side of a one nil score line, in a...

Duckfeet

You can’t resist looking in the mirror. Like this time you might see something different. Maybe a lanky shortstop after a promising rookie season with a couple of four-hit days and an eleven-game hitting streak. Or a gigolo with a waxed mustache and a busty blonde...

5 Role-Playing Scenarios

1.   You: mailman Me: an orange   Juice me with your mailman thighs Make me pulp citrus quench queen Mat the hair curling out of your short brown shorts with sticky juice Slosh me in your cupped hands Your cupped hands whose fingers could have ripped open so...

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