by Kirby Wright
I’m haunted by diabetes. Metformin twice daily. Finger pricks determine glucose levels after testing strips absorb the sticky drops. This disease is god’s punishment for gobbling fudge at Martha’s Vineyard. Sugared butter on the waterfront shriveled my kidneys and tainted my blood. I cringe whenever …
by Kirby Wright
A truck with Oregon plates arrives in San Diego at dusk. When the driver slides open the cargo door, his Christmas trees are coated with lumps of snow and sheets of ice. There’s so much white he imagines an artificial forest smothered in flocking spray. …
by Kirby Wright
I devour dialogues of sunset dwellers, the romantics sprawled on canvas loungers overlooking South Harbor. A turquoise pool ripples between the Baltic and us. X-girls chorus, “Yo, yo,” sipping wine and Estonian beer. White lights strung through the railing glow strong after my third drink. …
by Kirby Wright
Spray us yellow so that we stand out from the red hotels claiming Gamla Stan. We were the second boarding house to hang a vacancy sign, and that first one went kaput before the Great War. A single bomb struck during WWII, shattering windows …
by Kirby Wright
She gives me the look, the same one she throws whenever we brush our teeth together late at night at the double sinks. It’s somewhere between tolerance and abject disgust. Disgust because I not only eat meat but wolf it down rare. “Face eater,” she …
by Kirby Wright
ANGEL JUST HIT 42. It feels like a crash. She’s been acting thirty years and fears the bloom is off the rose.
by Kirby Wright
“Wot?” Dadio replies, sniffing his fingers.
by Kirby Wright
It’s been happening daily and I pray he doesn’t do this in front of my girlfriend or parents.
by Kirby Wright
I apply mint jelly—that gives the lamb a snap of freshness.
by Kirby Wright
Doc decides I need more blood to the brain.