A pile of counterfeit purses sits in one corner of the living room kitchen till Saturday when Momma will try hawking them on the corner of 63rd and Halsted. JT’s got a hot dog over the gas burner, skewered with a plastic fork, and he’s hoping the thing doesn’t melt and drop the dog into the fire ‘cause he’s only got two for the rest … Continue reading 63rd and Halsted
Identity Theory published my story that looks at how violence can be passed down from generation to generation–and how that heirloom can be refused. Thanks, as always, for being loyal readers! Continue reading Identity Theory Love!
We’ve got locust plagues in the form of summertime cicadas that sap the will to live with their cries before attaching themselves to shirt backs, the car seats of those foolish enough to crack the windows of their AC-less beaters. Yearly deluges from the Des Plaines River, to the point where canoe is viable transport. Wailing and gnashing of teeth in the unincorporated part of … Continue reading Ode to Des Plaines