elegy for the walkable city
where do we go, where do we belong
JAKE
It Girl Corpse: Or, I Cut up the National Enquirer and Turned It Into Shitty Poetry
Love At First Like / FIND TRUE LOVE / talk about sex
To the Tampon
men aren’t supposed to bleed.
Today, We Are Making Gazpacho
There is almost no reason to make gazpacho at any other time of the year. Try to make this with winter grocery store tomatoes and it’ll be like drinking a Michelob Ultra instead of an actual beer.
Dynamic Preparation
I bring...
The Dog Days of Living
Just before midnight, my cousin, her owner, is asleep at a hotel in Florida that does not allow dogs, but is so luxurious that she would leave Holly in New Jersey under the care of a 21 year old.
A Thief in the Caucasus
Prometheus hadn’t seen a son so close in eons. He spoke words from Armenia, a tongue which demanded much from the throat.