dad 

teach me how to get that bald shiny

just like you. and there we’ll be 

two scalps approaching bald 

My wild grief didn’t know where to start or end.

Sometimes, I dig my hands

through the earth just to get

my fingers dirty.

“Yes, we are still staring at a screen, but this feels different — like a bridge to something elusive and so often lacking…”

“Walmart making its own insulin, like, really gives me chills.”

“Last month our dog Zoe died.”

"Imagine having to ask / members of another society / to look for the stolen and subsequently lost / bodies of your own relatives."

“There he is, laying on his side facing the street with his pants around his ankles, his hiney shining like a pale moon.”

I thought about the elements of a thriller, as a genre: danger, death, uncertainty, violence, crime, corruption. Certainly all of these things are in the ether as we speak; and suspense, well, we are all undeniably suspended in some way right now.