She squatted with her hips turned-out, froggy and studied the corners of the house. She sought shadows there—silhouettes lengthened by a setting Sun, longer memory. She knew there should've been arms there stretched out, with their fingertips pointed sharp to snatch and hold. But she was selfish, after all. No roots. Everyone said so. No roots. The yard smelled like home, anyway, … Continue reading Geophagia


It was a country road, turning on too-fast tires and no power-steering—that old ‘76 Ford, with rust above its wheels and dragging a muffler, sparks; with crumbs on the seat and eight-track ribbon unwound into mounds, tucked under the dirty bench seat beside candy wrappers; dust clouds kicked-up and made a gritty fog. Headlights flashed to catch some surface but … Continue reading Abattoir

Enola Gay

I. Mother The steel woman ate the air with her big red lips, with her sharp teeth. She shredded morning air, gossamer clouds and carried a man inside her, in a clear bubble shell. The other men touched her constantly, and so she was made property-- polished, sleek. She opened herself up to give birth … Continue reading Enola Gay