Still, Still, Still Simmering
Wildfires ravage and Irma bears down and nuclear tests keep happening, and I am heavy bored.
With Spies Like This, Who Needs Russia?
LOCATION: Seattle, WA
TIME ELAPSED: 4:27
OBJECTIVE: Gather information, determine daily movements of subject
You’re More Loving Than You Think You Are
Will cried when the sentences turned to me. “I’m just going to say one thing,” he said, and he had to stop for a while. “Because you’ll know what I mean by it,” and he had to stop again.
Wrinkles
I was once told the way that my eyebrows slope down symbolizes wisdom, but it looks like sadness, which might be the same thing.
How Everything Felt
So much of poetry is naming things.
Adventures in Groceryland
I know which cashier is the fastest, which one is the nicest, and which one packs my reusable grocery bags like her own personal Tetris championship.
Crotchpot
I recently discovered the healthy, frugal, “have my shit together” magic known as a crockpot, specifically, a brown-and-tan, floral relic from my parents’ wedding that in a roundabout Oedipal way, led to the traumatization of my penis.
Postcards from Queer Camp
There’s nothing like bustling down the baking needs aisle with a week’s supply of Oreos yelling out for “Anthill!” to make you realize you’re not currently leading a traditional life.
Nothing Goes as Planned
Last fall, my much-delayed Megabus dropped me off in Chinatown at 2:30 a.m. I had seven percent battery life, four dollars in cash, and no idea how to get to Brooklyn.
La La Life
Mia, waitress, wants to be an actor; Sebastian, broke musician, wants to own a jazz club. But La La Land’s biggest tension happens outside the screen: an unspoken, unreferenced standoff between itself and the twenty-first century.
