polynya // SAND Journal (2017, Berlin//Germany)
In the grey light of the day, Artem climbed the small incline to the post-box. He had never seen the plane land, and when he pried open the metal jaw of the box and peered inside, it was too dark to see whether his letters sat at the bottom, unmoved.
picturehead // Geometry Literary Journal (2019, Aotearoa//New Zealand)
The stiff-backed wooden chair screeched across the floor as I eased into it and flipped the polaroid so it lay face-down on the desk. I wrote on the back in black ballpoint pen.
‘i fell asleep in a construction site last night, curled in the scoop of a backhoe. when i woke up it was late and a pack of coyotes padded past me, silent in the dust. the moonlight silvered their coats. i thought of you.’
I tucked the polaroid into a cream envelope. Creeping to the front door, I squinted through the peephole; the hallway was empty.
all dogs go to heaven // Litro Magazine (2018, London//England)
That night, I dreamed of the blackened soil over Fuji’s grave rippling like the lake touched by evening wind. The remnants of the fire amalgamated themselves into a shape: the shadow of a dog. The creature of ash padded across snow, exterior shifting, eyeless and determined.
meow meow // So To Speak Journal (2017, Virginia//USA)
At first, Sheila only saw the darkness and that it was different from the darkness lurking in the corners of the rooms and under the furniture. Translucent cats draped themselves on the back of the couch. They huddled in groups on the half-unpacked cardboard boxes.
the electromagnetics of latex & rabbit // In Shades Magazine (2016, Barcelona//Spain)
The results of an experiment can’t prove a hypothesis, only disprove. When the bus crushed Peter, he and Marianne had disproved the effectiveness of contacting spirits with electricity conducted with friction between: gold & glass, steel & teflon, and cotton & polyester. They had been prepping to spark supernatural activity by rubbing sulfur on the human body – smelly, anti-fungal, and safest when dry.
disaster anxiety // In Shades Magazine (2016, Barcelona//Spain)
The Richter-scale smashing megathrust quake is coming and everyone is having a party.
A girl you met in first year psychology class, Megan, invites you to her loft. She refers to it as the ‘Rainbow Connection,’ because the house is a heritage home with a peaked roof painted yellow, purple, and red. And she hosts a lot of parties. Megan majors at your university in poetry and psychology: a double intellectual punch. She weaves poems about deep, nuanced characters. Her words are glyphs that conjure humans on paper.
The Rainbow Connection hunkers in the neighbourhood of Victoria that curves into Rock Bay. You feed and water your six dogs before leaving for the party. On the way, you stop at the liquor store and purchase Bordeaux Jus de l’Enfer 2006, a $300 bottle of French red wine. The label describes the flavours: earthy as grave dirt overturned in the Père Lachaise at midnight, notes of cedar smoke passed from a lover’s mouth, leaves a lurid smear of cherry on the tongue.
bless our teenage heat // Minola Review (2016, Toronto//Canada)
Alison had obsessed over her grandmother’s print until her father bought her a book on Marcel Dyf. She dissolved hours studying his portraiture – the emphasis of pose caught in brush strokes, the expressions toned with careful restraint.