Hatbox Elegy

On June 11, 2013, I went to confession. I wept the whole time. On the wall of my room at home hangs the lid of a hat-box. It was a cardboard hat-box; I say “was” because I have no idea what happened to the actual box. I decorated it—box and lid—at a Quaker retreat once,… Continue reading Hatbox Elegy


On Compost and Mambas

My family has always promoted the organic-free-range-no-high-fructose-corn-syrup lifestyle. I say “my family,” but really I mean my parents; I was usually an unenthusiastic participant in the community gardening and Tom’s of Maine toothpaste purchasing. In keeping with middle-class environmentalist philosophy, we kept a delightfully putrid compost pile nestled in the pachysandra shrubs of our New… Continue reading On Compost and Mambas

Womb Crunch

When I was little, my parents told me that before I was born I was just a glimmer in their eyes. I took it literally. Before birth we hovered in the eyes of our parents, we people-to-be, golden pinprick gleams, waiting for the day we would swim down from the eyes into the dark warm… Continue reading Womb Crunch