Matchpoint, or Strong enough to do it or strong enough not to
The fact of the matter is, I overthought it. I overthought it, and then I oversold it. I trembled across the slim line between cop cars. On the highway, legs wet on the leather, I hit the gas....
View ArticleSee me through
See through me. See me through. See the difference? You’re right, there isn’t one. Don’t do too much, I say to myself, over and over. Take a deep breath and don’t do too much. Less is more and don’t do...
View ArticleWading through the Rubicon
Afternoon, Tokyo. A big red car called Rubicon crosses my path. What exactly did you win and die for, Julius Caesar? A nightmare in which a lesser woman wins a grander prize. Wait, I was awake when...
View ArticleVisits from the spirit
Compromise is a good word, but compromised isn’t? Stripping the sheets off the bed. The bowl has to be washed first, but it’s too big on the rack. Shadows in my brain like shrapnel. They didn’t do...
View ArticleThe shepherd
A fair fight, a sentence to death. In the center of a sniper’s sight, I miss you already. An apparently humorless man, but still I saw you, when you turned away, smiling at the way I stood there with...
View ArticleIntent but not intention / 合宿 / 顔色
Give me a little more credit. Big clouds, wave skimming with easy light. You don’t let me finish my thought. You don’t let me process the feeling. Telling Alvin I’m trying. Feeling lost. Streaks on my...
View ArticleMixed message
He starts talking, agape and eros and I think, oh no, he knows. Nacre heart on my neck. Never were, never weren’t. The issue is, activism is embarrassing. The issue is, you save lives by inventing...
View ArticleAsk for more or nothing
AI-generated poetry is preferable to human-written poetry? Oh, we are actually done for. The authors describe the reason in the results: The AI poems are more accessible. My house is full of cowards...
View ArticleEnter here / 入る
Pylon, python. Ready with a wet rag. An impression of me, between sheets, humidly, on glass. My desire is to write the book on you—poised, perfect, candlelit—while you struggle, at my feet, to scratch...
View ArticleThe barricade
False, that I walk through a gray Tokyo evening, arms out like a windswept umbrella, crying to Jeff Buckley. False, that I have fallen in love. False, that my abs won’t show, no matter how long I plank...
View ArticleAres and Aphrodite (April and August)
Awkward, to be developing an affection for Alvin that is not romantic nor absolutely platonic, and as a result feels abjectly transgressive. But, by God, defer your judgment of me for just one moment....
View ArticleBeach girl
I spend two weeks at the beach and in that time my lifelong suspicion towards the water tightens into a ball of wiry dislike. Gummy in my mouth, spat onto the cement. Yes, the ocean is like a metal...
View ArticleArs nova, ars subtilior
You don’t know what to say to me. You don’t know what I’ll understand. And if you do say something, you don’t know how I’ll take it. So you say nothing. You decide it’s not worth the risk. Your mood...
View ArticleWounded by a good friend
Feeling, today, the mediocrities of my life press down hard on me, crushed flakes of butterfly between pages of leatherbound. Feeling, today, like I am boring and predictable, that is, the fate...
View ArticleCry, baby
Thank you, velvet ribbon of time, for finally ending April; I cry more in that month than in any other, and it is piteous, and awkward, and a defeat for all of my senses. Cruel month for a cruel girl...
View ArticleBest, your loving peptide dealer
Against my best judgment, I am sending you a message. I hope you are proud of yourself because I don’t send messages to just anybody. But yes, you insulted my vanity and no, I am not able to let that...
View Article声をかけて
“Lock in, bitch,” I think, squatted over the public toilet. An improbable can of Mountain Dew perched on the ledge behind me; its original contents, it occurs to me darkly, are the same yellow tone as...
View ArticleSpring thriller
20,000 steps in Seoul again, with a pulled hamstring, and in a melancholy mood. But I don’t mind the melancholy much these days; it keeps me from looking at my phone. Still simmering in a main meal of...
View ArticleThe better me 101
I know I was born to play the drums. I read the “Personal Life” section on every Wikipedia article. I spin around in a carnival teacup. Skin catching painfully on the scalloped edge when the rotation...
View ArticleNotes on being impossible
“Life is nasty, brutish and long,” quips Strawberry, and I laugh and think of every tender, doggy thing dead in a ditch. Dear darkness, I much appreciate your work and would like to know, do you come...
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