to forgive me I masturbate then pray to God to forgive me I masturbate then hate myself after scrolling endlessly through porn I never find exactly what it is that I’m looking for because there is no category for my type of desire
This time, it begins after dark. There’s a solemnity that was absent from the previous day’s rituals, which I had witnessed when the sky was still light. “This time, we have to be serious. We can’t be jokey-jokey,” says Syafiq Dendi...
Alma lost an eye when her house collapsed under ash. Milo severed his thumb por una bomba. Juana married John in Las Vegas. Ernesto washed dishes in Hollywood until his skin cracked while...
After a fallow period of about fifteen years, in 2014 I returned to driving. Having let my license expire out of pure indolence, I embarked on a process that ended with a road test in deepest Brooklyn. I had no car and no plans to buy one...
Capricorn, hair, bray, and hoof, eater of tin, biter, bitter, sister, wilder than tame, not quite gamey as deer, lower cousin to the caribou, giving rise to tears and the satyr.
There are few things in American life more problematic or pratfall-prone than a privileged, straight white man like myself holding forth on the topic of feminism. The innumerable things that men know about the universe and are happy—happy...
in the dream where I run without breasts I am motivated by flight, I haven’t yet begun to unweld the framework, invent new trauma, whip the stitch arching each bosom as victuals dangled, withheld. when I hemorrhage against design it ain’t...
It’s Sunday morning in September and I’m walking Eighth Street when I see it: spray of words in green and pink, framed in the middle of the pavement as if an illustration of some kind. In the middle of the pavement?
