Month: August 2015

During the day, while my sons are in school, I can’t stop reading about the disaster of the world, the glaciers dying like living creatures, the great Pacific trash gyre, the hundreds of unrecorded deaths of species, millennia snuffed out as if they were not precious. I read and savagely mourn, as if reading could somehow sate this hunger for grief, instead of what it does, which is fuel it.

“Ghosts and Empties” by Lauren Groff (2015)

During the day, while my sons are in school, I can’t stop reading about the disaster of the world, the glaciers dying like living creatures, the great Pacific trash gyre, the hundreds of unrecorded deaths of species, millennia snuffed out as if they were not precious. I read and savagely mourn, as if reading could somehow sate this hunger for grief, instead of what it does, which is fuel it.

“Ghosts and Empties” by Lauren Groff (2015)

White light was floating everywhere like flour dust, and the beautiful woman climbed up on the bed, on top of me, and, right in front of her servants, she took off her clothes and pushed herself down onto me. I thought my penis would burst, but she was slightly cold, not like a Korean woman.

“Five Arrows” by Heinz Insu Fenkl

White light was floating everywhere like flour dust, and the beautiful woman climbed up on the bed, on top of me, and, right in front of her servants, she took off her clothes and pushed herself down onto me. I thought my penis would burst, but she was slightly cold, not like a Korean woman.

“Five Arrows” by Heinz Insu Fenkl