No friend to authors, the paper mite, devouring libraries with librarians in sight. I’ll squish any with my thumbnail that trample on my words and lest he be remembered, on a period, obscured. ———— Casey FitzSimons is an over-educated, under-published artist and writer. Her father was a Milton scholar and she has yet to walk

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[specimen] I couldn’t read my intervention on how hegemonic ideology physically changes the way people see the world until I put on my new glasses with the thick black ear pieces that are all the rage now. I started to see things as if I were a point-of-view shot in a movie, so I knew

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first love he called at 4 in the morning crying into the phone telling me she’d left him and asking for my advice. i told him to take a nice hot bath, clean his apartment of all her things, listen to some jazz (Miles Davis if he had any), take the phone off the hook,

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It’s A Lifestyle A dear friend was missing two Netflix movies, she looked everywhere on the computer table the television stand bookshelves cutting table, sorted through stacks of books magazines papers fabric, finally gave up in despair, wondering what the replacement cost would be, she told me all about it at lunch, later that day

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I go to therapy wearing my green and white military tank top that says: “my bush would make a better president.” My therapist sits in a modest desk chair and I slide into a black leather recliner. It’s a nouveau version of the therapy couch. Sweat gathers behind my knees, itching and sticking against the

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