For the longest time, I couldn’t even say his name.

vistas approach, recede:

I got up early and raced down to peek at my presents, even though in our house you had to wait till after lunch to open them.

Six years ago, I divorced my then-wife, frumpy thing that she was…

I’ve got a fetus, she says

Rolling, rolling, rolling.

The scene is bright enough

Dig out the recipe your mother scrawled on a pale yellow Post-It note…

The train goes by. The train is cold. The train is at my window.

Deserts can make dust that travels a long way, even across oceans.

It will be
a foolish death

The best ham in Louisville’s in a deli in the back of a liquor store, no signs, salty-sweet and heavenly cold on a biscuit, made for picnics in the March sunlight, made for walking, and even these moments must be remembered.

Having reached the age of 55, my mother has decided to try out retirement.

113,307 acres, 38%
bigger than Atlanta is how badass
our ancient trees are everything up
to the road is burnt as the fire grows

First, be born to Armenian parents in Santa Monica, California―

I spied the neon sign advertising ‘Barbecue pork, all u can eat, take exit 122, turn right, can’t miss it! Truckers welcome!’ flashing above me. As hungry as I was, I didn’t pull over.

year of

impasse and circumstance in search of a blowhole

He’s walking through the lot as fast as he can between, around, past extended-size F-150s and jacked up Silverados.

I was born from a womb swollen with guilt, the stain of sin