The road ran plumb straight, ideal for speeding. Then, the pavement gave way to gravel, and the route turned into a tangle of hills and
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Vladislav Khodasevich is not a household name in the West, though he should be. One of the most precise and devastating Russian émigré poets of
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A snow flurry rides the crest of a silent brown sea, perpetuating the feeling of loneliness that sprouts from the weeds, grass, and dirt that
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The walls here are like saltines. From the far end of the king-sized bed I hear the elevator ding as clearly as if I was
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We have maybe ninety minutes. Vera knows a place — she always knows a place, which is one of the things about her I’ve stopped
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You came to me like a kid in a candy store, picking out your favorite treats. I remember sitting on a shelf, your eyes lighting
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Her toes, nails painted lilac to match her fingernails, pressed into the windshield, above the inspection sticker. She hummed softly, eyes closed, hands clasped to
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The liquor burns in my throat for hours after it’s slithered into my bloodstream (I wanted to vomit it up when I shot it back
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Most nights I stay out all night because I crave to be free and unserious especially on top of a sweaty elevated surface where I
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(After “Romance Sonámbulo” by Federico Garcia Lorca) On windy nights like this, the cold intrudes and seeps into each open crack cold like a
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There’s something about a man when he’s not quite all of his sentient self. Like the one she sees before first coffee, his hair tousled.
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Call me when you are walking your dog driving to your office weeding your yard Call me to kill time in traffic when you have
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It’s the pull of a compass magnet finding its home in the north. His air attracts my earth. Dizzying. His altitude makes it hard to
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