Jackson

Suck, baby. Undulate your tongue along my flesh and chomp me with your gums. Stare at my armpit, and flick your black-pool eyes about. Drain me until you doze. Consume me until you sleep. Just leave me one hand free. First published in An Endless Afternoon Read more

Kitzinger* says when I feel it move it will be like a little fish zigzagging inside. Kitzinger says it’s about as long as my index finger— like the pearlescent gourami in its father’s aquarium. A little fish or a mouse inside fully formed, with little toes a beating heart and rice-paper skin If a boy,… Read more

“Standing with Light” by Michael Iwanoff. 1987, oil on canvas. New Norcia Art Gallery, Western Australia. Bent black trees. A huddled settlement: herd and children. Black birth houses, blood bridges, death-blue water, drips of ancient snow. Sheer cliffs—hundreds of feet. Then light, dusting, manna-ing down offering fake salvation McDonald’s redemption— and the shivering villagers, unguided,… Read more

My little brother lies dead in a box. He no longer exists. I believe in no soul. His tall thin body will rest with the rocks. I watch them lower it down the hole— I, our parents, and a hundred friends. The flowers are beautiful but they won’t last. Among the trees and the community’s… Read more

1990 Adam is walking, tentatively, but not to my outstretched hands. He is saying a few words, but my name’s not one of them. His smile is a green light, his voice is a windchime, but he’s always asleep when I call. I’m sending him a gift that his mother will like. 1991 Adam my… Read more

Bald is pinkish, minimal, contained, defined. Hairy is dark, lavish, uncontrolled, soft-edged. Bald wears steel-rimmed spectacles and adds up numbers. Hairy has reflector sunglasses and bellows songs. Bald enslaves his wife. Hairy trashes televisions. Bald crushes spiders. Hairy keeps snakes. Walled Bald wears flannel trousers. Lairy Hairy stretches lycra tights. Businesslike Bald has a mortgaged… Read more