Author name: Annaliese

ONE HELL OF A DANCE PARTY

This morning I am dancing. If not in reality—in heart and mind. I twisted my ankle last night rising […]

It’s a complicated story, this face thing. If you were to analyze all the individual components of my face—eyes, nose,

“Every day, artist Harold Garde wields his brush and paint like a warrior in battle. And every day, so far, he

I watch Mama lift the stiff shaft of white delphinium into the light. The bulb over the sink is naked.

She leans into my body.

Drink up, I tell you. It’s only my Mum. A cup of real woman. Dead six years, cremated at McHoul’s

I will forever hear the word Marines as “love.” I know, I know, the Marines are not about love. You