Blog of literary hijinks and the dudnering whirl of expatriotic vitriole.


Living Without

The lake vomited whole species of fish upon the gray fringe of sand and pebble at the foot of a wall of impenetrable noise, an unheard protest. Pale, lacking the colors that the city itself lacks, it left without leaving.

The immigrant children threw flats rocks from the breakers, mixing languages, stepping out, wrapped in gusts of north wind and secondhand scarves, onto the ice. Learning the edges from the holes in their bootsoles, from being unseen, they fell through without falling through.

Such small defeats passed unmentioned over dinnertable newsentertainment programs
and in breakroom newpapers. The punch clock looked on, blind traffic roared seamlessly, the ghosts fled the city’s stare. We died without dying.


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