Essays
"Remember Us As We Were" | "An Egg Is Still An Egg" | "Preserves" | "Bra Fitting"
Remember Us As We Were
Memoir Monday, First Person Singular
January 18, 2023
I guess we’re not starting that commune. We’ll never build a yurt or even sleep in one. We’ll never make it to that palmistry session, so I’ll never know why your palms are crosshatched like raccoon paws. I’ll never know what those paws were trying to tell me. We’ll never see Pink live in Vegas or Show Justin Timberlake our tits.
An Egg Is Still An Egg
Blue Earth Review, Issue 28
Spring 2022
Humans have always eaten eggs, since before we learned to cook with fire. We ate eggs snatched from the nests of ancient birds, white and yolk tipped raw down the throat like the oysters I shared with a lover last summer—that short break in the long loneliness.
Photo by Melani Sosa
Preserves
Water~Stone Review, Volume 21
2018-2019
This fall, it seems the world is ending, but gardens are producing like mad. I become obsessed with using up fruits and vegetables. I get an adrenaline rush at the farmers market. There are ten-pound cabbages, pumpkins as big around as truck tires—last week, three dollars, this week, two. My heart beats fast. What will happen to these giants? What can be done to make them last?
