Oncet after a heavy rain he come back at daybreak threw down a few dollars and cents alongside a set of pretty glass eyes into a little dish on the dresser flopped crosswise on the bed and slept I started to write I feel lost here and I’m […]
The point of the leak is to imagine the flood: Hilary Plum in conversation with Caren Beilin
Hilary and I have spoken before. With each new book that appears, I diligently come forward as her friend and colleague, as a fellow writer in the fun as fuck trenches of indie publishing, which feels like ascendant exile, sometimes like a lot of rubble, but to me where anything good could happen. It’s often […]
Our Audubon
You and I both must know that birds are the blessing disseminated. I only knew you eight years ago. But I found you again in the bookstore here. I touched your book like a mirror pureed into pages—it was the you I remember, the you of our brief friendship. I touched the corners and numbers. […]
from FOUR PERSONAL ADDRESSES
1. One square meter of prison.
Raat ki Raani
Sometimes I live in a highland valley
in a town so tiny the power goes out
at the first strike of lightning
I was watching videos
of Japanese people cooking tiny things
The Aphids and the Mint
We live on mint.
Let mint make mint.
It is my mint.
It is my food.
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