Two Transsexuals, a Children’s Swim Team, and a Lady With a Hammer Walk Into a Locker Room
To swim, a person is often subjected to the horror of a gendered locker room. My girlfriend and I love to swim. We deserve to swim. But despite the signs plastered to the front of the locker room doors at our local public pool, people have the right to use whatever room they want based...
My First Dead Body
I clicked up with a gang of my peeps at the payphone across the street from Brown Middle School. We were fourteen and school had just let out for the afternoon. The sun was bright and smiling down on us, just your average happy day. I called my girlfriend, Boo-boo-kitty-fuk, told her I was coming...
With the Braves On, My Father Washes Me
A week before my twenty-sixth birthday, I lie morphine-cradled in the recovery wing of Pelham Medical Center. I reek of sweat and surgical tape, blood and unsalted hospital beef, my hospital gown sweet with syrup from several spilled fruit cups. It’s Friday, which means I’ve been stagnant in bed for a week. Deciding my stench...
Between Us
My town didn’t have much, but we had sunsets. Tremendous, spectacular sunsets, as if a Hollywood director had orchestrated the whole thing, lighting crews and special effects enlisted night after night, fulfilling notes that read: Bigger — More violet — Cue the eagle! In their glow we made promises, confessed, forgave one another, believed in...
Ways to Change Your Life
I could have a baby or I could buy a banjo I could write down my dreams each morning instead of eagerly surrendering them to the abyss of unmemory I could read the labels on food packaging buy organic eggs from happy chickens force myself to care about microplastics I could be Tiktok famous (if...
Sanguine
All animals have blood hearts Omnia animalia sanguine* corda All animals have blood in their hearts Sanguine is no longer meaty. We have squeezed out the blood. Lobbed off ventricles and arteries to leave just an outline <3 Our animal hearts once bloody / bloodthirsty now...
The Hawk Outside of the NICU
One morning, as we ate sandwiches—mine had apples on it—a hawk appeared outside the hospital cafeteria window. Or no, it was not a cafeteria, it was a cafe. Which was meant, perhaps, to conjure a sense of normalcy. You could order paninis and mochas and bowls of soup. My husband and I sat there talking...
In Chinese I Am Six Years Old
I know the sweet shape of sugar, tang, and the soft sweep of cat, mao. I know wo e le, I’m hungry; I know wo bu zhi dao, I don’t know. I know wo yao, I want; wei shen me, why; dui bu qi, I’m sorry. Last March, I learned the word ai zheng, cancer....
I Live Alone
According to the US census, more than one-quarter of older adults live alone, one out of five men and one out of three women Nearly half of women over 75 live by themselves. 1. I live alone. Husband dead. No kids. My dog can’t hear anymore. God is the only one left who might...
The Mathematics of Decay
In Tokyo, they measure death in hours. Nako’s began with stomach pains at a wedding reception—her own. The cake hadn’t been cut yet, but something else was already dividing inside her, multiplying with the precision of a cell gone wrong. Three hundred and twelve days from “I do” to “Time of death:” The numbers feel...
Rumpus Room
I’m nine. I stand behind a leather couch in the larger area of the daylight basement everyone calls the rumpus room. It’s Easter Sunday and cool and hazy outside but not enough so that my grandfather will need to ignite the fists of coal already mounded in the grate of the fireplace. Three of my...
Lebanese Eggs
Click here to jump to recipe. Otherwise, notice the tippy milk crates stacked two-high under your five-year-old feet, the white chef’s apron knotted behind your neck, draping down past your shoes, between you and the oven door of the ten-burner stove in your grandfather’s diner, the two flats of eggs, thirty to a flat, ready...
There Will Be Plenty of Time
Your mother won’t forget you right away. There will be plenty of time to prepare logistically and emotionally for this event. You’ll become accustomed to the usual symptoms over the course of months or years: forgetting appointments, tripping over the names of acquaintances, the first missed birthday. When she begins to fumble overlong with her...
Potshots
(after Hanif Abdurraqib) I remember guns were a private thing we only used at camp beginning with the potshots my cousins and I took at empty Miller Lite cans the white cans with the red emblem and the time David yelled at me after I discharged the lever action BB gun across the water because...
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Plastic Makes It Possible
by Nicole Walker• 6 Comments