In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:

 Grooming I shave my hair closer to my thoughts. There’s a scar on the left side of my head I forget why I have. I must have fallen as a kid down the stairs or in a dream of glass. It’s whiter than the uncut parts of me, like I was blood brother to the snow angels I flapped across the park to help Sundays fly away. As if my skin is eating peppermint, my head is tingly as I walk to the mailbox. It’s sunny in November, like weather’s part in being sad is broken. Stephen’s sent leaves from his backyard in Baltimore I’ve never met. They’re green and red and I show the cedar with lichen what city trees look like. Sarah is happy about her book and the two horses on her card are black and I will carry them secretly in my pocket for freedom. The flyer says Amanda’s twelve and missing and to call if I’ve seen her and I believe in God for three seconds in case it helps. There are all these spots to sit I finally notice about the world. People go by in cars either way and don’t see my head being more naked than it was an hour ago. I bet myself that the next thing that doesn’t happen will be a man walking by in chains. A man walking by in chains asks if this is the way  to the locksmith. I think so I say and he strides musically toward a man who is a student of tumblers. An ant finds my shoe in its path and adds it to the countries it has visited. I rub my head like eventually a genie will come out. ...

Share