Essays
176 posts
Terra Incognita
At 30, I am about to bisect the difference in age between my mother and mother’s mother when they gave birth.
From the Archives: The Sunday Rumpus Essay: Bad Blood
To give blood in the United States today is like joining an elite, profoundly uncool, hyper-exclusive club.
Voices on Addiction: Washed Clean
That’s when I noticed John the Baptist standing chest-high in the middle of the narrow, easy-moving river.
The Night of Little Big Man
I was a watcher: Sometimes my father called me a hawk, taking in everything. Most especially him. I knew when he was angry by the clench of his fists and his jaw. When he relaxed at the piano, his shoulders rode lower on his body.
The Muralist
The thing about living with my ex’s mural of his own ex about two hundred feet from my apartment was that I loved it.
An Apparent Lowering of Moral Standards in the Lepidoptera
“Is this sex?” “No.” “Is this sex?” “No.” “How about now?” “Maybe.” “I think so.” “Probably.”
