The arugula seeds are under a bag of raw cashews on top of a plastic CD spindle case.
In our absence the roommates might sit on the lawn eating cereal holding badmitton rackets.
Even the dog that shits in the driveway is polite; he turns up his face mid-shit when I tap on the window, politely goes away.
Now I am considering the moisture-wicking properties of various fabrics, the sporty logos of outer shells, that mountain is nice when it’s behind the city skyline, that monogram.
That guy who said he was sexually attracted to Mt. Everest, is he from Seattle?
Subarus with bike racks. More Subarus. Subarus.
A large tattooed woman reading a large book at a bus stop looks over at a large tattooed woman reading the bus schedule. I ride by on my bike looking pretty androgynous, helmeted.
If you have computer problems. If you are Mid-western. If you are skiing while texting. If you are into Anime and girls who look like Anime characters.
Seattle, you and California should meet somewhere in Oregon. In a hippie’s mud hut in Ashland? Maybe in Weed.
Maybe it’s because I just watched Breathless that this story by Mike Young seems like it should be starring Godard.
Mike Young recently accepted something I submitted to NOO Journal. In his email he said something I’m quoting because I think it’s hilarious and observant and is how I would like to describe his linked story:
There is something about the kind of funny that’s being written right now. It’s very careful, but if someone were to come up to it and say “I want to throw you away,” this kind of funny would agree. I like that quality. Pre-apocolypse Kenneth Koch or something.
E.B. Goodale did the illustration above for a short story I’ll have in Smokelong Quarterly. I had seen her illustrations on Brian Foley’s blog (like her illustration for a poem in Rauan Klassnik’s Holy Land) and in Oranges and Sardines, so I thought of her when an editor at Smokelong said that I could provide my own illustration for the story. I think she did a great job. I particularly like the way the wall/floor line is jagged and looks at first glance like handwriting. I also really like how an outline appears to be separating from or joining the body of the suited man (’the son’ in the story). Thank you, E.B. Goodale.
