Tag Archives: Elaine Schleiffer

Don’t you fucking look at me like I’m speaking in tongues when I am using words to describe you that you don’t like. We stand in my kitchen, shoulders squared off. You won’t meet my eyes; and I could claw … Continue reading →

This city is all tastes and sounds, the beat of wheels on tracks, doors opening and closing, that struggles up from under concrete to pick at your veins with dirty fingertips— in your mouth the garbage and perfume and oil … Continue reading →

Take these pages, and call my name forever – RA The sound of an aircraft descending, that long wolf howl of mechanized air, and the screech of rubber on cement: it leaves a little of itself behind, latent, languorous, splayed … Continue reading →