Month: January 2017

FUK the Police

This dirty kid’s calling me Daddy, yanking at my shirt so hard it’s untucked now. I’m not your daddy, I say. I’m no one’s daddy. Other passengers dumb-face at a “Are You Beach Body Ready?” ad, play minesweeper or sleep. Whose kid is this? I shout. You hungry? I hold out a pretzel, fat and steamy. The carriage smells like a bakery. Take it, I say, and shut up. But the kid whips away, starts tracing some misspelled graffiti knifed into the window. He opens his mouth, starts to sing. I want to shake him, slap him—only beggars and...

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Hitler vs. the Clown

The whole thing starts when Hitler’s nephew walks up to the clown and challenges him to a staring contest. The clown accepts but doesn’t realize what he’s getting himself into. The kid is, after all, Hitler’s nephew. Hitler, in this case, isn’t a last name but a first name, as in Hitler Wilcox, who was taken from his now deceased parents shortly after birth because they were neo-Nazis and thought that Hitler was both a strong and appropriate name for a child. The name was legally changed to Ronald, and Ronald was eventually returned to his parents after a...

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Animal Kingdom

Yesterday they were naked on the sofa, the panther and the bear, watching reruns of Animal Kingdom in the glow of gauzy lamplight. But by nine the moon had shifted, betraying me, and they became my parents again. Today Mother is a panther once more—foamy mouth, fangs, onyx eyes with specks of scarlet. We form a broken circle around clothes scattered on my sister’s bedroom floor. The panther tells the bear, “See, she’s a pig,” and hands him a leather belt embossed with antelope, fawns and bucks, the buckle silver moose antlers. Light squeezes through the ceiling seams like...

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