I don’t know how to hold onto the warmth of the image of Ray picking up the kids, dappled in sunlight, with the statistics of suicide that run through my mind as I think about Lizzie.
(nonfiction)
Tag: Photographer
Back then, protecting the border was about preventing people from getting out; now it means not letting anyone in…
(fiction)
Now all I want is to / hear what Paul Thomas Anderson whispered into Fiona / Apple’s ear to make her cry in public.
in silence, those dark minutes of recess when they stomp on my shadow with their hyena / laughter
(poetry)
I have not / strayed far from the dead. I see their hip favored / executives and can pick them out from big / crowds
