Articles Available Online

sweet sweet agency   the candy here is hard & filled & there is nothing i love more than to be treasured if nobody’s watching i just do nothing: lie down don’t hardly breathe, keep my face in careful stillness not to crease its cute forgettability the world is full of edible munchkins & it is my life’s work to work out how to stay creamy on the inside, how not to sour myself up with little nips of this or that or otherwise cut holes in myself thru which to be seen i must learn to love what i cannot know: the wide bleached anus on a porn blog, the insane demands of toddlers, the desire for moderation or slimness of affection, the reasons lovers leave, the trash my cat brings back, the crack of footsteps in the woods at night, why the killer kills i learn it all the hard way but fwiw i would never snap the rabbit’s neck again i would rewind i would keep it every time     honey lamb   don’t remember going downstairs saying sorry or nevermind just the moment of waking not knowing if it’s dusk or dawn sweating like a hothouse flower red & wet & pulled up from under & gasping steeped & steaming like a teabag & drunk on sleep & beer & sadness blue & dewy as a hothouse flower & the white white vodka crouching neat as a bullet low inside me & burning light like a living laser & i feed it – milk & bread & honey & lamb – until i’m sticky as an ant & shining like a hothouse flower thrumming with the urgent clag of honey blood across my chest in uneven lubbing – my vodka heart trembles like a chihuahua & bruises break across my skin all purple & yellow as hothouse flowers & the white hot vodka stars at dusk & dawn glitter inside me i am beautiful as a hothouse flower when i turn myself on i light up in twinkling points between the milky bones of my ribs & pelvis & all the bulbs i planted in my fat hot head burst into bright flowers through my eyes & my teeth bleat like a lamb & i spark myself up into a column of coloured light & fire