An Infinite Number of Things That Are Not This

hen I arrived in Memphis, I had just dropped out of college and found a temporary sublet in a friend’s apartment on Poplar Avenue. The city felt glamorously run-down, like an Eden of the South, ravaged and plundered by Sin herself. The streets smelled of sour mash and slow-cooked meats. It was springtime. The dogwoods…

River Fever

he dew is settling. It looks like forgiveness without absolution. My boyfriend will not call me. I will not complain. This happens every Tuesday. It is Tuesday again. Riverbank––I feel the fleshy insects crawling over my skin. Cold skin. Dead skin. I can hear the river too; my tragic, restless resting place. The light is…

Pollution

e really was a strange little bald man. Not quite tweed jacket pulled close to him, furtive and alone, stealing down to the creek bank where the light caught his glasses and the waves. I didn’t believe it really, the first time I saw him kneeling there; sternly, sweatily uncorking the bottle of cleaning fluids…

Unburdening

e were outside under the covered walkway because Thomas wanted to smoke and I didn’t want to be alone. I had been with our mother at the hospital for seven days and nights. And all that time I had been alone. “You want one, Dee?” He tilted the pack toward me. I didn’t. He hadn’t…