A girl buttons solid f(r)onts A girl undoes (parenthetical) reruns A girl understands that fonts frame meaning A girl stands tall in threads of well-read seams
Nice, together, in the face of perfect terror Looking at the files redacted At the P O T U S, who acts like a loony attacks the people in Minnesota he can come in and milk us with agents of ICE
It is against the law for bombs to sleep on the sidewalk but less fortunate bombs are shelterless or as some say unsheltered no silo nor anywhere else to go
A shadow’s echo speculates by the bleached wall of papyrus An incense stick crumbles into ash — a garden snake sheds its skin Falling back asleep inside the mirror of dreams The puddle’s canvas, catching watercolors of the rainbow rain
Losing another member of our group would be terrible, but the loss of a child is beyond compare. We’ve all been lucky. Hoping we’ve earned the right through good behavior to exit according to our position on the chronological timeline.
The workmen sitting at the counter look my way when I enter the cafe. They stare at me, their eyes alive with malice, mouths compressed into lines as thin and sharp as razor blades.
But the novel isn't black-and-white trauma porn. Zavala didn't limit himself to a monochromatic color pallet, nope. He painted a massive, intricate masterpiece exploring the mind of psychopathic politicians...
I tell him about peach cobbler and jackets and playing musical chairs because my mom told me she couldn't handle me anymore and she wouldn't hug mebefore she left the hospital aren't jokes and veer dangerously away from indifference.
Or maybe he's looking at his old shoes, thin and hollowed out, like himself. He’s been making do with these sneakers for the past five years, regardless of the season, even though the leather shows cracks the size of his shoelaces.
There are online groups where black genre writers from around the world discuss, among many things, the prevalence of black fantasy, science fiction, and horror fiction in popular culture today.
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