Dear High Badass,
Whether They Be – Novel Excerpt
Inside the Coliseum in Lincoln, a dozen National Guardsmen stood grasping long guns, a pair of men at each entry, the rest rimming the basketball court. A German shepherd, triangle ears rigid, flanked the officer in center court, its short leather leash wrapped tightly around the man’s fist. Sitting courtside to keep an eye on the varsity cheerleaders she coached, Grace Rowley could not decide whether the dog was there to protect or attack.
On Solitude; Secret; If I Die Today It’s Not My Intention; Taking the Body Apart and Putting It Together; Under the Tent
When I look in the mirror I’m looking for someone who looks like me
Light and Other Forms of Fire; Clock Faced; Daffodils of autumn; Untethered pages from the hymn of the damned; Self-embodiment of sorrow
Daffodils of autumn
Do you know why the stars never fail the night when it’s young and early? We’ve lost more time drawing ourselves into a tomorrow we aren’t in.
An Ice Cream
- Where are you from, kids?
“We are from Chernobyl,” the girls answered in chorus, meaning that they were victims of the nuclear accident, although they were not from Chernobyl itself.
And then the woman jerked her companion by the hand, shouting loudly, "Let's get out of here quickly! These children are radioactive; you can't stand near them. They emit radiation, which means death."
Why Litbreak Tries to Exist
I posted this essay recently on Litbreak but then withdrew it, finding it excessively dogmatic and ranting. I was reluctant to delete it altogether, so I inserted it in my private journal instead.
But it bothered me that I took it down. An editor should face the music. So I reread the essay and edited it slightly...especially removing a prominent swear word. So here it is again: excessively dogmatic and ranting.