Below is a complete list of each piece published for the Bone & Ink Press blog-zine inaugural themes. Stay tuned for the February/March themes, which will start being published in a few days. (And consider submitting your own stuff, maybe?)
Being still is only something for glasses of white wine and ice at night. For tired eyes. For sleeping on the couch, glasses lopsided.
Hurricanes happen and heat. The gardening and the dog-walking, driving. I inherited her movement, to a lesser degree.
Every breath I took pulled me closer to death.
My body was shutting down and took my mind with it.
Dying is not like anything else.
It’s pure exhaustion.
It’s being completely filled with pain.
It’s not being human.
It’s all of those things and none of those things at once.
Barbie passes an IN-N-OUT where someone who looks like her is still in the drive-thru window wearing a paper hat, waiting to take orders. Hello? Is there someone there? the woman calls out as she drives by. Stupid bitch, Barbie thinks. You don’t have to try anymore.
The clouds cannot come to consensus on a game
plan. There is one that looks like a mouse, dark gray
with one whisker and a mutilated paw, and another
that looks like a sheep. There’s always a sheep. And
a whale. And occasionally on outline of one of the
48 contiguous states. I see a bloated Tennessee today
over on the left.
one-fourth of yr skeleton pressing down upon the planet as you gamble for the light
"We cannot think ourselves well." my buddy, Jim, says to a room full of affirmative grunts and nods self-cultivate or bust
In other news--we have a Ko-Fi account now, so if you like what we're doing you can tip the writers and/or help me keep the website and press running.