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Terminal Depression: Is It Just Me?

I want to dispute that depression is by definition pathological.

The Aphorisms of Henry Adams

The woman who is known only through a man is known wrong.

The Best of Death

“I’m not afraid of death; I just don’t want to be there when it happens.”

The Blue Hotel

“I suppose there have been a good many men killed in this room.”

The Brother

He held a screwdriver to the fleshy underside of Peggy’s neck.

The Church of Abundant Life

“Ki-Tae the famous pastor,” Jae says to her. “Can you believe life.”

The Crossing

The underworld reached out for your hand and found payment.

The Delinquents

You don’t feel anything when they cut you, not at first, just the blood.

The Departure

“I can’t hold it any longer. I have to pee,” I finally confessed to Viola.

The End of Life

He thinks with joy and conviction that the Japanese are his enemy.

The Groaning Board, the Flowing Bowl

The Long-Lost Love Letters of Doc Holliday

The sense of power that flights of temper evoke will betray you.

The Murder

He always talked of making money with the air of a connoisseur.

The Palace of Illusions

I managed to talk sensible Alice into a little pink outfit and high heels.

The Secret Agent

The Silence Here Owns Everything

When he kisses me, my heart flutters in my chest like swarming bees.

The Stylist

Her bra is black, her breasts full and white. There is too much flesh.

The Traveler’s Story of a Terribly Strange Bed

We were young and lived wild lives in the delightful city of our sojourn.

The Wilderness around Us and Other Poems

In the backyard I submerge myself in a bathtub of soil, soak with the hose.

This Is Not a Christmas Story

There was a shout, then a shot fired. I pressed the shutter again and again.

Three Poems

My brother stealing all the lightbulbs, my parents live without light.

Three Stages of Amazement

Charlie wasn’t Lena’s first love, but he counted on being her last.

Tradition

It is the night of whores and monsters, but without the killings.

Two Poems

What will we do without exile, and a long night that stares at the water?

Untitled (Woman Brushing Hair)

She takes her hand to my scalp: eyes close as if tasting lemon cake.

Up Country

Tanya jokes that she comes to the East Coast now only for funerals.

Washed Away

The future was spread out for us to go in any direction we wanted.

We Are What We Have Lost

Ella knew she hadn’t hurt Sebastian, but she knew she’d betrayed him.

What Would You Have Me Do?

We’d never had a cross word, but I’d never corrected him.

White Fish

There isn’t a nice Jewish boy in sight—not that I’m looking for one.

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