Au secours ! Help Nola NOW!
I’m sure you all have seen what’s been happening in New Orleans over the last few days. Yes, it’s grim. Yes, there are people trying to leave that can’t. But there are also amazing…
Author: stephanie
Red
A year of taillights. Of barriers so close to that they merged with us, masks making scabs across our bodies. A year of skin famine, of narrowness. Last spring, when I wanted nothing to…
winter ceremonies
C died months ago, far away. I read the news on a Saturday, so many Saturdays after the actual passing I cannot bring myself to count them. The message had waited quietly in its…
An Open Letter to the Bigs
Dear Big Ones, You know how it is. Exiled to our various parsecs, homes transitioned from living quarters to satellites. The pings flash at all hours of the night, messages from so far away…
Hillbilly Hate
June was for fleeing north. In a move to distance from the heat, sickness, and constriction in New Orleans, I headed for the crickets. My parents’ farm is nestled in the countryside just outside…
Yellow Light
I watch through the doorway, her taking hours to smooth out fistfuls of shiny, synthetic hair. Her own hair, thin and still holding the butteriness of babyhood, doesn’t want any brushing. She herself goes…
On watching an artwork 14 years on
Your porch – quarantine space deemed safe – feet between us like miles like years Put it out there you said of the work I hazarded as Perfect then quickly backpedaled to It was…
Dispatches from the block
In a circumscribed space, no circumscribed hearts.
Feast without count
There was an opportunity to get strawberries. I realized this at 8:30, after I had already committed to exercising. The backyard was still syrupy with morning fragrance. All the smells that beg one to…