Bo crouches on the floor with her cowboy boots. She reaches into one and pulls out a wad of twenty dollar bills, a rolex, and an assortment of glittering jewelry, all perfect diamonds and pearls. From the other boot comes a small revolver. She stares at the array with reverence.

She looked so peaceful,

she could meet God

“Sohee, who lives in Seoul, endured the little boy's runny nose and scream.”

Blame the late bloom, a mimicry of want

that is a vacuum: a place waiting to be filled 

I caught a spider for you,

Held it up by one desperate leg

The sticky dark table and 

My damp-rain hair saw us

A mostly-true night of degeneracy, recalled by Benjamin Grose

“we both know this country knows the million and plus ways on how to tear your life apart.”

the Apocalypse came and went yesterday

         we wait in patience for the milkman to come

“Whether or not the subject is already dead, every photograph is a catastrophe”.

“One day the old man called us up to his porch.”

after Kathleen Hellen.

“What makes you think that’s not God?”

Captivating, eerie landscape watercolors by Adam Moorad.

February 2023

“The sun began its dramatic descent, stretching and reaching and spilling rays of ultraviolet amber. A zipper seam of white bounce, like a child’s drawing.”

“The calm after the storm / atrophied”

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