So many notes on a violin resonate with open strings that I aim to make as many notes as possible luminous
(nonfiction)
When I borrowed his car, Rush Limbaugh’s scraping bass would erupt at full volume
(nonfiction)
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.
(nonfiction)
And not one protection / has come to them / nothing sound
(poetry)
“‘The Deep,'” writes reviewer D.M. Kiely, is “a harrowing fantasy epic of hate and war, and a gentle, nervous love story.”
(review)
There are only two things I can think about right now. One, a Carolina wren…
Width of a queen-size mattress: five feet
(nonfiction)
Last week, we had a grammar unit on expressing desires and regrets. I wish, we hope, if only.
(nonfiction)
I am not unhappy in the house all day.
(nonfiction)
I count the bodies and try to make sense of the math: 144,926 is not a lucky number.
(nonfiction)
How many pictures? How much? How long?
(nonfiction)
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.
(The Loop)
We had to wear N95 masks for days on end because the air was so polluted.
(nonfiction)
I have proof that the days are there, one after the other
(nonfiction)
I know how strangers react to a black woman walking a pit bull in a nice neighborhood.
(nonfiction)
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.”
(review)
“As long as I come see the mountains, I’m okay,” was the idea their poetry expressed.
(nonfiction)
Perhaps my biggest secret is that I have a doppelgänger.
(nonfiction)
Laboratory testing for viral diseases would not be available for another fifty years.
(nonfiction)
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.
(nonfiction)
Why are they sitting next to one another enjoying warm, frothy cups of cappuccino?
(nonfiction)
Did I know them? No.
(nonfiction)
One of my students asked, “Is that your cat sleeping up there?”
(nonfiction)
I sighed, expecting a request to extend a deadline.
(nonfiction)
I drift through the Breakout Rooms like a digital ghost . . .
(nonfiction)
Easier to say, there / are too many poets and there aren’t enough rebels.
(poetry)
Reviewer Carol Haggas writes, “Meno has written a definitive and unnerving account of the myriad risks and meager rewards of seeking asylum.”
(review)
Unwrap four bundles of dry vermicelli. / Let their white locks dissolve
(nonfiction)
Another Chicago Magazine 