By: Holly Day She had perfect teeth, possibly because she never ate anything complicated, eschewed anything too spicy or heavy, or foreign, as she would never say aloud but we both knew what she meant when she watched me cook…
By: Holly Day I spent most of my pre-teen years in small towns in Nebraska, with parents who were hard-core hippies, and I was truly a product of my upbringing. I publicly despised television, which, of course, we did not…
By: Holly Day The skeleton stands by an open hole, freshly dug leans on its spade and mourns the loss of its skin. Just days before, a riot of fibrous nerves and thick lobes of muscle wrapped it tight in…
By: Sasheera Mehrani Gounden Insipid palate of the moon For celestial lunar lips to part and reveal the tongue of Neptune The intrusive starling of star, Beckons beyond the windowsill Pygmy pristine limp fish cling to fishing rods Like sticky pegged…