Mom’s getting even this evening, going mum. I’m not sure why. I bask in the silence. She plays solitaire, flicks a Queen over, four-
The adoration he declares is like an adult mayfly. His mouth, vestigial, releases air, and I swallow it all. Of course, his reveal is
Albrecht Baker There’s nothing more pitiful for the living than the sight of an abandoned body. So many of us were abandoned. Even the