You were a good liar because you lied to yourself.
I answered phone calls from my mother every two hours, so she could “check your voice for corona.”
Cut right in the middle
Cholera was raging in the middle of August.
I wanted to be in the mountains when it happened.
America ignored dogs
splinters floods tears/the people who’ve had citizenship for/over a hundred years.
“‘Desire and Dust’ is an incredible collection of work,” writes reviewer Mike Corrao, “seamlessly blending distinct mediums into one cohesive tome.”
Every day they would wash all surfaces with carbolic soap.
A month will become a year.
If I come across someone I make sure I am the first to ask about the screams.
We hold our breath, if the road’s too narrow.
We take an image of your chest each day.
With ISIS defeated and the conflict in Syria dwindling, this should have been a bustling season.
When she tires of reading, she comes over to burp in my ear.
“I wonder where we go when we die,” Calvin once said to Hobbes.
So if Henry is neither in the woods, nor alone, what exactly, is he doing?
The earthquake woke us on the sixth day of the pandemic.
dark people mark a place as dangerous or destitute, the word/ jawn marks a place people gloss over on their way to DC
“The nationalist is mired,” writes reviewer David Kirby. “But the patriot is in motion, which may explain why Marcus’s prose tears along at a breakneck pace and then collapses in exhaustion.”
Ritter and her companions rely on seals they shoot for survival.
They’re always baking, said The Stand Mixer.
Rural populations tend to have higher rates per capita of the elderly, disabled, and people with other health problems.
A sedative floods her veins…
You know the one we mean.
So many notes on a violin resonate with open strings that I aim to make as many notes as possible luminous….
When I borrowed his car, Rush Limbaugh’s scraping bass would erupt at full volume….
I tried folding up and taping a Siemens vacuum cleaner bag over my mouth and nose, something The Wirecutter said to use only under “desperate” circumstances.
And not one protection/ has come to them/ nothing sound.
“‘The Deep,'” writes reviewer D.M. Kiely, is “a harrowing fantasy epic of hate and war, and a gentle, nervous love story.”
There are only two things I can think about right now. One, a Carolina wren…
Width of a queen-size mattress: five feet
Last week, we had a grammar unit on expressing desires and regrets. I wish, we hope, if only.
I am not unhappy in the house all day.
I count the bodies and try to make sense of the math: 144,926 is not a lucky number.
How many pictures? How much? How long?
It takes our breath away, virus or not. And nobody knows how to make the virus go away. And nobody knows when it’s leaving, or what it will look like tomorrow.
We had to wear N95 masks for days on end because the air was so polluted.
I have proof that the days are there, one after the other….
I know how strangers react to a black woman walking a pit bull in a nice neighborhood.
Reviewer Mike Puican writes, “‘neckbone’ is a wild, go-anywhere ride that welcomes all readers, black and non-black, to climb in, buckle up, and hang on tight.”
“As long as I come see the mountains, I’m okay,” was the idea their poetry expressed.
Perhaps my biggest secret is that I have a doppelgänger.
Laboratory testing for viral diseases would not be available for another fifty years.
It’s become a delicate balance, this being open to joy while not in denial of the harsh reality of the magnitude of fear and suffering and death.
Why are they sitting next to one another enjoying warm, frothy cups of cappuccino?
