9mm
Rebecca Hazelwood
Every day after your aunt points a 9mm Smith and Wesson at your head, you think about holding one in your hands. You need to feel that weight.
Every day after your aunt points a 9mm Smith and Wesson at your head, you think about holding one in your hands. You need to feel that weight.
We were in Hungary to see his grave, which I did not spit on, and I’m proud of myself for that.
Excise it. Use a cheese wire . . .
My man shocked me by pulling out dirty magazines with pictures of fat black women called Black Tail. He had had the mags concealed in an oversize manila envelope.
The Germans call it the downfall. The French call it sleep. The Polish just give you vague directions.
I wear glasses now, Luis,
you wouldn’t even recognize me.
Coincidentally, I read the third book of My Struggle in the two weeks leading up to my daughter’s third birthday. The coincidence is that my daughter was experimenting with a particularly annoying
Babies from the Dry Counties became a fated élite. From the creamiest of breasts to organic kale pudding and Montessori kindergarten.
I.
When I was a kid I believed
in good old-fashioned animistic
souls coming out of the grass
and the sky and the rocks.
I loved walking
in Las Rocas de Santo Domingo
and seeing
I Have
I have a
wet mouth
in this pink
apartment.
I still have that.
Boy—
you think we’re in love?
Don’t you
roughhouse
with me.
You’re trying.
But at this
Ask her to aim her index fingers.
at you. Aim yours.
Present the conflict or the mother as the conflict or the mother as the object of conflict during childhood.
In elementary school, when kids talked about being “Christian,” I thought they were talking about race.