Now Dig My Grave

There was a bird on the floor this morning. Probably from the cat. Let’s blame everything on the cat. The bird’s body is bound with long strings from the carpet, twisted around the wings and legs. A rope of old cobwebs hold its beak shut. It almost looks like someone did this on purpose. Does…

“Teach the Young Men Well” in Gamut

From a distance, the hundreds of bones strewn across Auntie Eunice’s acreage make the grounds look whiter than a nostalgic Christmas card. Hungry birds hop through the jumble, chirping their morning song into the hollows. Whenever my sisters and I visit, Auntie Eunice uses a rake to part the bones, carving a path to her…