I will snap my driver’s license in two and try to forget  where it came from. I won’t smile in my next photo.  I will stop being palatable to the apparatus of the state   and adopt a new state to tell myself I’m safe   in this body. My hands are still sticky with honey   drawn in the shape of the Battle of San Jacinto  on a biscuit in 2005. I will wash them off   in the Rio Grande and leave my footprints   among the ancient snakes and fossils   and someone might remember I was never   supposed to be here in the first place.   This time next year I will head …

Continue reading This Time Next Year 

By JASPER FU    When the calm voice of the pilot clicks out over the intercom, it is always the same; whether delivered in lilting French or clipped German it is the voice of a man self-collected, professional, and bored. There is none of the anticipation that you the traveller feel at seeing the illuminated seatbelt sign flicker and dim – he will not, in all likelihood, be disembarking alongside you.   If he does, he leaves with the determined strides of Someone with Somewhere to Be in a Hurry, with Somewhere to Be currently Concourse C, Gate 37, O’Hare International Airport, a quarter mile of thronging masses …

Continue reading Arrival 

By Abigail Koerner    The light flickers on to reveal the creatures hiding in the dark. Our outfit choices day-to-night; their visibility night and day. Hair curled and cheeks pink, we ladies venture outward and onward. With itty bitty steps, they take our places. Click and clack our heels march away.   “Oops, I forgot to turn off the light!” she exclaims.    She turns around and opens the door and shuts it off. They whisper among themselves. Crunching and bunching and climbing everywhere, they exit. They exit the expanse of drywall where a nest was made. They sniff and search and prey on …

Continue reading Little Legs