After The Season
After the season of several deaths, the house closed itself off. Masking tape over windows, brown cuffs that held the mangled cardboard skin – Lay Do, Side, Erator, jut out in dark green lettering like trash-born Sanskrit. The front door clasps the spring wreath, the plastic untainted by the rot that burrowed in […]
The Unmoving Journey
What you don’t know is that death feels like your body in an abandoned car, field left, weeds, wild wheat in the wheel well, paint slips off in the hands of each autumn storm. Your form is not the end as the children of the dirt pull at the new green […]