This is as close as I can get
to a lullaby. It’s July — four months
into the virus, and sleeping
through the early morning exists
only as a memory, a relic
of the Before. Before I swirled
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The Judas Ear
By Anna Journey
I invited the apostle to my stir-fry dinner by accident. I shook into my smoking wok a packet of driedwood ear mushrooms — the ones I’d bought from a farmers’ market. I […]
Warning
By Anna Journey
As heat moves through like its own animal whose evening pulse is headlights and a reply of lit cats’ eyes, as after the amber of Freon streaks my ceiling and […]
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