rusted signs say: there are dangerous animals! please don’t near. what animals? a far-off building, birds squawk for thawing. a weary panda pushes his head against a tree and we cheer. not far from here, erasure, erasure, forgotten hutong, abandoned malls. the...
Photo: Barcex via Wikimedia Commons. License: CC BY-SA 3.0 On the night I turned twenty-one, I was studying abroad in Segovia to conquer Spanish, once and for all, and I was walking back from the Plaza Mayor to my flat, a half-mile away, or a kilometer, whatever that...
Photo: Chris Leipelt via Unsplash He took me to Big Sur by way of Monterey, where we stayed in Carmel-by-the-Sea, tucked away in separate motel rooms because I was unsure of his capacity for control, not that I had any reason to doubt it other than I knew my body and...
Photo: Christian Bolz via Wikimedia Commons. License: CC BY-SA 4.0 I am the ultimate pivoter: my crumbling castle turned wedding studio Come pay to watch me fall apart Once deserted, I am now a nostalgic photoshoot backdrop Trees grow in my carousel but not my walkway...
They say the mountain people on the island of Crete still measure the walking distance from village to village in the number of cigarettes a man smokes while walking. I don’t smoke. I’m an American ex-pat who gets by driving a cab. I don’t know how many...
Photo by Zoey Punteney The Corkscrew is in a quaint little commercial area called Rockbrook on 108th and Center, just off the interstate. The shop is in a glorified strip mall with a brick facade and a lovely shaded patio that faces west. I’m alone and elect to sit...
