Friday Night at the Double Bill
Gabriela Knutson
In the backseat of a parked Datsun, she waits for her turn with Billy at the drive-in. He loves to take two dates to a double feature at the same time, switching girls in between movies. She prefers
In the backseat of a parked Datsun, she waits for her turn with Billy at the drive-in. He loves to take two dates to a double feature at the same time, switching girls in between movies. She prefers
The night before the Super Bowl, we were drunk in Miami after hours of non-stop tequila Sprites.
When we were kids, my sister kicked this boy.
Victor Buono played King Tut in the 1960’s Batman show. He waddled in gold and red robes, his campy lisp at full-tilt. His voice warbled from his gut. He also played the Boston Strangler, a fat man in
The circular is peppered with the “free” of Buy One Get One Free, as opposed to the “free” that is both propaganda and sacred text. I know, in total, the Arabic for peach, name, gesundheit, and thank you.
Always have your shoes reheeled before they really need it.
im always in the wrong lane
And oh god it’s wonderful sitting here, drinking too much coffee, eating too many pastries, and loving everything about this moment.
Medical professionals are careful to point out that cerebral palsy itself doesn’t inhibit sexual desire or function, though studies show that most young adults with CP report physical problems related to sexual contact.
I went looking for her. He went looking for her. She went looking for her. They went looking for her.
We all went looking for her.
I look.
You look.
He looks.
She looks.
They look.
We
An immigrant from the Russian Empire invented jeans...
Each year, the clouds lowered. Each year, the boys' hopes crept closer to their grasp.
She never sticks around for harvest (though she convinced you to plant rosemary, lavender, zinnias, to think of time as a full moon, as a thrush’s song), you’ll say, but O the planting season. The spry seedlings at the start.
Arranged in front of Papa were a cup of coffee, his glass eye, and a shot of whiskey. One by one, they would patch him up before he left for work. The sun hadn’t yet chinned the horizon, and we sat
Still, he wants me to keep strutting down my freak lane, says “Gucci” like “Coochie” on “White Freckles”.
My almost-ex was freaking out in the way only men with egos can.
Always, I am navigating some half-abandoned landscape— part future, part past. Whenever I have a companion, it is my ex husband—the man who, after our divorce seven years ago, moved states away, leaving me to raise our kids mostly solo. On this particular morning, it finally occurs to me that these dreams may not be normal.