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  • I

    there’s a man who lives on the corner no i mean on the corner not in a house you see i see him almost every day sometimes he smiles and says hi and i feel stupidly proud and sometimes not whenever i buy milk or ice cream or forgive me cat food i hide it from his view ashamed of these displays of wealth


    the eclipse is happening and a friend has nasa-certified glasses with which to observe it we are walking down busy market street and he is offering everyone a view of this celestial wonder some people don’t quite trust him at first but once they look through his glasses they beam sweetly like children


    we are children my mother and aunt are taking a workshop with elisabeth kübler-ross our younger brother shay has recently died in the family bible I learn he is the third my mother’s homework from the workshop is to have her children draw a picture of death we draw pictures of violence aliens with laser beams crazy devils flashing their teeth people with axes and such and when we finish we show them to my mother and aunt they both look first so hurt then disappointed then enraged they tell us they will not take the pictures they'd rather show up empty-handed.


    there is a woman my mother's age on the bus disheveled angry she smells foul her eye-shadow is too blue and too green and she seems perpetually poised to spit from her parched lips to jab her wasp nest elbows at the least provocation an excuseme or a wouldyouliketosit would do it everyone including me is careful to avoid her gaze but looking out of the corner of my eye i can see angels pulling and tugging violently at her brittle hair
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