i always remember the dead as gray, & always startled when they look alive.… More
i always remember the dead as gray, & always startled when they look alive.… More
When I roll in to drive, Dad Bluetooth’s AC/DC or Metallica—some 90s stuff— on the soundsystem, crazy loud. We have to shout over it while he tells me how to switch gears; I pretend like I don’t know how while he pretends not to notice me pretending. … More
She took another long stressful sip from her drink and clanked the glass on the table. It could be seconds before her wrath exploded according to her husband’s prediction. But she didn’t stay. Instead, she fled to the attic and to the only world that made sense to her.… More
He wakes up with dread in his belly. He can’t afford to get the tap fixed and he sure can’t afford to replace a broken door. He should call the cops, but doesn’t. He should put some shorts on, but doesn’t. Instead he pads to the kitchen and pulls the door open. “Do you know what time it is?”… More
It seemed to me that there was an imprint of a lost me on the inside of a certain, special mask. A me that wasn’t lost and afraid. Could I find the right mask? Maybe it didn’t exist, and maybe there was no me to find at all.… More
The trauma of war can ripple across generations and bleed through borders. You can arrive in the United States or come back home to the United States, but you’ve left a piece of your sanity behind.… More
Baumeister seems to recognize the inherent fascism in the hero worship of the Marvel version of Norse mythology, and thus he consciously inverts everything, making Loki the postmodern hero whose trickster punk identity becomes an antidote to authoritarianism, while Thor is reimagined as a buffoonish fascistic bro, “perpetually shitfaced on cheap lager, crushing aluminum cans against his head, biting holes in them with his teeth.”… More
You have to love the Germans, their national sense of humor at least. One part British stodge, one part French aloofery, they’re unmoved by the banal jokes Americans love. But give them a hulking sexecutioner in black polythene and a Hello Kitty mask, and they’ll yuck it the fuck up.… More
It’s the last day of summer vacation. Soon he will be mired in seventh-grade English assignments and history reports. Things Edward has no problem with. But brother Edward does not know how to drive and he, Davey, is killing it.… More
Santa put ammo in my stocking again this year, so each dawn over winter break Pap nudges me awake with his boot and drives us out to the woods.… More
I observe my multiscreened supercomputer slave away at its latest task I programmed for it: creating the most authentically erotic images of that flattop super mermaid Richard’s pet seems to adore so much. It is one of civilization’s great mysteries why that gorgeous creature doesn’t disappear from that plastic man’s grasp and be the much-desired queen for that fish man.… More