The Arrest, in all its surreal narrative trappings, supercars, and Hollywood theatrics, wants to know if words can save us in a dystopia.
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Ode to Ghosts “There’s always someone younger and hungrier coming down the stairs after you.” – Showgirls To the ghost shepherding a motorcycle into the guard rail at night A ghost pulling
No one bothered telling me that my father was picking me up, so when I saw him outside school, I worried someone was dead. “Why the fuck would anyone be dead?” he
Soon the Solstice June 7, 2021 Today the dawn comes furtively. For once, the sun is not a show-off,prancing through the clouds.
I started calling my mother by her first name when I was 14. It was the day after my father deserted us. He left a message under a magnet on the refrigerator
We spent our state tax refundon an inflatable hot tub, a bottle of peach wineand a couple filets of Alaskan salmon. Also— a bundle of asparagusI picked up at a carport farm
in a world where silkworms turn in the wind, into mothswith prodigious hunger & no mouths, where you are possible even the most
Eben E. B. Bein (they/he) is a biology-teacher-turned-climate-justice-educator at the nonprofit Our Climate. They were a 2022 Fellow for the Writing By Writers workshop and winner of the 2022 Writers Rising Up
i. There was a time. There is time, and it fools us. It really does toy. Like he put it, it is titillating, this foreplay with death. As one day dawns with
My goddesses tell me that before i bow down and pray, imust kneel and heed i must kneedand heed the answers that becomemogras in the mouths of maa kali a world you
Woke up to shy blue//Thought about praying//Forgot how to//Kept my hands pressed together anyway//Drank half a pot of coffee//Used extra cream because my mouth//Wanted to feel as full as it does holding