January 2021 A (Day 2)

If/then

If angels are not what we imagine, then I wouldn’t worry so much about things going wrong If I am alive now and in the future, then robots are logical next step If homunculi are friendly, then monkeys should not be behind bars If...

January 6, 2021

January 6, 2021   I work at my desk the morning of January 6th. It's hard to concentrate, but too early to expect any news. I am acutely aware that electoral votes are to be counted at joint session of Congress today. "Don't worry," people had told me. "There's...

Abagail to Abe

News gunned across every church from Springfield to Mississippi after the birth of Abigail. Her mother, Nancy’s womb belted the length of the Union States. When her water broke, she drained more than 3,000 square miles through central Illinois and flash flood corn and...

Abagail to Abe

News gunned across every church from Springfield to Mississippi after the birth of Abigail. Her mother, Nancy’s womb belted the length of the Union States. When her water broke, she drained more than 3,000 square miles through central Illinois and flash flood corn and...

Go on, love

I have inherited the undesire for marriage. People ask me about it: why don’t you care about this? It’s odd for a woman. It’s especially odd for a woman from such a marriage-obsessed culture in which your caste, your complexion, your chastity, your silence determine...

A Daughter Needs a Name Like an Amulet

She wakes up laughing at her dream that she is a chest of drawers with a single knob in the middle. She wakes to find her belly button has popped like a Butterball turkey thermometer. She dreams she is eating a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She wakes and makes a...

The Magic of Truth

A hummingbird flew in my ear, a metal speculum holds open my vagina, and a huge zip tie immobilizes my arms. Yet I am victimless because I am not less. My orifices speak only truth. I am vivacious and vulvalicious. You can hum 'cause I can't run but I can speculate...

The nearness of history

John Commons’ shift had started at seven that morning but he’d woken at three when his phone wouldn’t stop humming. Some warbling high pitched tune that made his scalp crawl. At work he’d put up with six hours of standing around. Nobody could blame him for yawning on...

Clear-Cut

Crossing the Yukon River off Chilkoot Trail on Easter Monday, after the first day of the planting season, the pulley sliced Chuck Lee’s ring finger off. I’d met Chuck that morning, You like Porridge? No. Toast. Nope, I’m a banana guy, me too, cool, was the extent of...

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