I’ve got a new piece at Anti-Heroin Chic called “No One Asks How Old a Seashell Is?” It begins:
Upholstered and isolated, food is canned and repressed, but beverages corner the caged scars of summer. I suck the marrow out of bottles. Today the kid has friends over, ravenous for anything. All pithy dimples, luster and mutiny, they’re a line-up of grenades on the couch.
Thank you to Dylan Brie Ducey and James Diaz!