Wind, power, speed; we zoom up the mountain to the place that prints the papers, where you can get The Wall Street Journal early. I love the orange motorcycle the way other girls love ponies. At three, I have my own helmet and know to hold on tight, but I must not be holding tight […]
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From The Blog
The Thing About Birthdays
It’s my birthday, but the clouds are offended again because of something I’ve said or thought. Their bellies are full of dark-sick, gauzy vomit, pushing away the sky which doesn’t remember I’m nine today. People are talking about the moon, how there are men on it for the first time, but people have told me […]