Helen & Harold At the kitchen table with lobsters
The Citron Review
I snap mine in half, we all laugh, as green ooze gushes over my palms across the table. Harold gobbles sweet chunks of pink meat and microwaved peas, a quiet gusto...
my heart is a cheap fuck
Dig Boston & Slush Pile
So, Alice, where shall we be off to today? The train game, again? Then the train game it shall be. Pick a platform, any platform! I know: I’ll close my eyes and let you sniff it out...
The Los Angeles Review
The mirror behind the stage is still streaked with handprints, smudges of sweat and body oil. The girls still climb up every few dances with spray bottles of glass cleaner and rags, wiping it up and down, back and forth, like slutty Cinderellas in their g-strings and bras...
Utne Reader & Passionfruit
A woman, dangling her daughter by a skinny arm, emerges barefoot from the bathroom. Her filthy feet and wet, soiled sari brush against me as she stumbles over huddled bodies and sacks, expressionless, seeking her space..