All revolutionary movements create their own ways of [facing]. —Sheila Rowbotham   A face is made up. The end. + A face begins in reverse. A face equals an approximate half-second. A face looks to be ever on the edge of death, ha. A face met repeatedly reforms itself into visual static. The face composed […]

“So-called Sappho” Halfway to the opulent hotel for his friends’ wedding, Not Baby, who can’t tell if the engineer’s attracted to her despite the scar or if desire veils it the way daisies—or any leggy wildflower—will a rut, nearly missed the enormous yellow crane that had fished a boat from the river and left it […]

Fall is coming. I find myself walking past East City Park, daydreaming of trouser socks. A hot Americano in a blue ceramic cup. This morning, I am working from my desk. The leaves outside my window have begun to turn, but in a way that seems unnatural—as in, burnt orange at the edges due to […]

Pale thorns reach from emerald wings. I kneel in the clay-dirt and pinch the root stem of bull thistle. Exhume. Blood drops gather and wash my calloused fingers. I twist at the wrist, and the outdoor faucet beneath the window screeches. Water traverses the slight hill via hose, a green snake with a yellow stripe […]