Lecturer— polite, speaker at the podium, sets microphones in stands for a questioning opposition— “willing to listen.” Our mistake was assuming lips, alone, can lie— when it’s the ears that do the worst of it almost every time.

Chelsea said, “He’s a SHARP dresser.” A real boot-boy, that one— straight-laced in leather— with a ‘byrd at his side, and a friend to his right. He’s drunk again. Whiskey-fucked, braces up— feeling good—not looking for a fight tonight. Well, boneheads never listen and a culture needs defending so down they go, now— head to toe—steel to bone: Chelsea said, “It’s a point of pride.” He gets it, that one— real pride is non-racist, non-extremist, non-political, non-ridiculous. A working class kid—...

Dear (unknown) I am interested in applying for the Summer Butterfly Garden internship at the Museum of Science Park in Boston. Information on the position was forwarded to me, as advertised on the Museum of Science website, by a friend. I believe I have a level of skill and interest fitting for a position like this. I am currently majoring in Natural Resource Studies with a minor in entomology at the University of Massachusetts at Amherst and have taken several relevant college-level courses ...

Lecturer— Polite, podium Speaker sets Microphones in Stands for a questioning Opposition—“willing To listen.” Our mistake Was assuming Lips, alone, can lie— When it’s the ears That do the worst of it Almost every time.

She recalls— A certain breed of female maintained, almost entirely, within a certain class of people. Born into a promotion of weakness— walking magazine ads for the upper-middle class— advocates for ultimate dependence. She hates them. How easily they soak up their petty little lessons. Reflections of statements made (in classes, at parties, in passing) by these foolish, dolled-up dames: “My husband will do this. Why should I learn it?” “This is my passion. I want a Masters, at least, but I’...

I recall— A certain breed of female maintained, almost entirely, within a certain class of people. Born into a promotion of weakness— walking magazine ads for the upper-middle class— advocates for ultimate dependence. I hate them. How easily they soak up their petty little lessons. Reflections of statements made (in classes, at parties, in passing) by these foolish, dolled-up dames: “My husband will do this. Why should I learn it?” “This is my passion. I want a Masters, at least, but I’ll qui...

He’d seen her there before, in the park, sitting quietly by the stream, among the raspberries. He remembered her very clearly. There was nothing noticeably spectacular about her looks, but there was something—something not to be overlooked—something… healthy about her. She’d moved since the last time he saw her, though not far and he easily found her again. She seemed to be enjoying the new leisure-spot. He watched her carefully. Her head moved softly, subtly. Her legs were thin and graceful ...

Carefully now, look at the sand. Carabids— quick-footed— are hunting again. Elusive little beetles, too easy to reject. Are you fast enough, dear? Then ready your net. Follow the Connecticut or Chesapeake Bay— where the eggs of these bronze-winged females are laid— always in singles, in puritan clay. Where larvae will hatch— S-shaped and odd— with instinctive persistence and sickle-sharp jaws. Where perfectly circular burrows are found and the babies, as well, will hunt from the ground. From ...

He’d seen her there before, in the park, sitting quietly among the raspberries. She’d moved this time, but not far. She seemed to be enjoying this new leisure-spot. Her head moved softly, subtly. He recalled a way she had of stepping lightly enough that leaves hardly bent beneath her feet. There was a barely audible crunch and he realized she was eating something. Good. She’d be distracted. He moved slowly, very slowly. He was near undetectable, as delicate as she, and both seemed invisible t...

He’d seen her there before, in the park, sitting quietly among the raspberries. She’d moved this time, but not far. She seemed to be enjoying this new leisure-spot. Her head moved slightly, subtly, he recalled a way she had of stepping lightly enough that leaves hardly bent beneath her feet. The current motions of her head, he observed, were a result of her eating something. Good. She’d be distracted. He moved slowly, very slowly—he was near undetectable, as delicate as she—both seemed invisi...