Miss American Sky This year, a 27-year-old waitress from the Bronx shows up to compete for the title of Miss American Sky.
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The God of Mozambique Elephants It was an aha moment: largest land mammal with overgrown teeth. I fancied tusks as bone fide
In a city, hundreds of miles away from the corncrib of my childhood, Mozart plays on the hotel piano, and instantly I
Jacaranda my mother recalls the jacaranda at Cocoplum about which my brother wrote a poem both not here but the tree
The longleaf pine inverted and snagged into the surrounding forest like a treble hook hung on a cast before it ever hits
refrain Detroit, lauded as a truly American art form, birthed from the underbelly of resistance and Black joy, broke its back somewhere
There is a reservoir here, where they live now, whose kidney-shaped lobe is bifurcated by a two-lane causeway. There is a gravel
They were born in an industrial zone, former bog-land, where the sand is stained red from all the iron in the air.
Graffiti on the defunct valve house says FREE THE RIVER. But the river’s not a river; it’s a creek. And water is
They use a metal spatula to flay a palm-sized swatch of moss from a stump in the backyard. They bring it into