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This Is Not a Story About a Ghost
This is not a story about a ghost. This is a story about a gas bubble, a molecular twang, a memory.*In the weeks after my cat died, I sometimes still felt her jumping on the bed near my feet, just as I...
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The Saturday Rumpus Essay: The Leaving Deficit
Barbara and I exchange gifts at her door before I tell her why I left my husband. I give her a silver ring with a large, handcrafted blooming flower. She holds the three grams in her hand like it’s...
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The Alienation of an Irish Abortion
When I was seven, my aunt sat me at my grandmother’s kitchen table and gave me the “needle and thread” test to determine how many kids I’d have in the future. The narrow room smelled of wet clay and...
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Triple Bill
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I-797C Notice of Action REQUEST FOR APPLICANT TO APPEAR FOR INITIAL INTERVIEW APPLICATION NUMBER MSC XXXXXXX058 A# A XXX XXX 961 Notice Date:...
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Mothers of My Diaspora
“But we’re never alone, and I always eventually turned to see my ancestors by my side. See my grandmothers’ solar faces.” –Suheir Hammad, Born Palestinian, Born Black (1996) 妈妈 mother part i My...
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Homebodies: The Mothering Instinct
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Tooth: A Meditation on Mortality
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What Did You Expect, Though?
This spring the gland in my throat that sets the speed of change of every cell in my body started to fail. I shifted by the day, grew cheeks, lost memory, went dry and slick, lost hair where I wanted,...
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Open Letter to Our Body
The merest schoolgirl, when she falls in love, has Shakespeare or Keats to speak her mind for her; but let a sufferer try to describe a pain in his head to a doctor and language at once runs dry. There...
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