Issue #2
Work appearing in Issue #2 of Abandon Journal, “Abandon Time” (Fall 2021).
Part of being a good sad person
is always painting the shadows
in the right direction and knowing
what sorrow to art with.
When I was on earth I was a pretty good kid. I only got drunk when I needed to get drunk.
Empty vessels
make the most sound, I think,
as you rip the fairy lights off the handrail.
I don’t know why I was still talking about the rapture. I certainly didn’t believe in it. Regardless, it remained a thief…
I pushed my nose to within an inch from the rug. I sniffed, and sniffed, and I smelled something…not quite right, but I couldn’t place it.
Mama sped along the highway, unbothered by bits of gravel that flew up from the front tires and struck the windshield of the sedan.
Taking photographs of my hometown has given me a chance to reflect on people whom I have not valued.
and then her eyes fully opened — blazed through with strands of mud
The most entertaining thing about Miguel is that when he was 13 he dislocated his shoulder playing basketball and can now pop it in and out of place. There is nothing particularly interesting about Miguel.
It all started with the curse of my tits. Women’s bodies are cursed. Everyone tries to look at them, everyone tries to ignore them.
I imagine that undressing a color, though, would be so much like peeling a memory away from the grey and the white matter of your brain.
you know that
baby swallows make silver ripples
in wild rivers to court reeds?
This series is a response to a health diagnosis, trigeminal neuralgia and thoracic outlet syndrome, from a major mid-Atlantic hospital after a several year journey through chronic pain.
It was spring and the hills were irradient, like they had to get out all their green in one short burst before catching fire.