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Employment
Poetry
Last Day On The Factory Floor
We were warned not to complain — / plenty more temps they could call. / Warned, too, to avoid the break room / with its jailhouse camera / swiveling right outside the boss’s office, / his speakers playing only country.
June 2022The Dog-Eared Page
The Smell Of Fatigue
Life has always been as hard as the soles of my father’s feet. Like the callused hand my face melts into. He holds it like the cantaloupe before a fruit salad. Like life before America. Before it’s sliced, devoured, consumed.
June 2022Fiction
Good Housekeeping
How could she tell her son that although she bathes, puts on clothes, laughs at Colbert, and has conversations with people, people don’t know. They don’t have a clue they’re talking to a bunch of scattered molecules trying to imitate a human being.
May 2022
Essays, Memoirs & True Stories
The Devil Takes Back
No one would admit that they’d stolen my phone, so Manager threatened to call a juju priest to settle the issue spiritually.
January 2022
Photography
A Thousand Words
January 2022
A new feature in the magazine, A Thousand Words features photography so rich with narrative that it tells a story all on its own.
January 2022
Essays, Memoirs & True Stories
Growth
Being in remission is like air: you only appreciate it when it’s gone. After four years of not appreciating it, I’m back on Vancouver Island, where I work at the university as a cafeteria dishwasher.
December 2021
The Dog-Eared Page
from The Grapes Of Wrath
What happened to the folks in that car? Did they walk? Where are they? Where does the courage come from? Where does the terrible faith come from?
October 2021The Sun Interview
Displaced
Graham Pruss On Why More People Are Living In Cars And RVs
To insist that people who have a mobile shelter are “homeless” not only denies that their shelter can be a home; it also has the potential to deny their humanity, because it insists that they are incapable of making a home.
October 2021
Fiction
The Other Side Of The Mountain
This was what it was like to do the work she did, to recognize the person in the dying body and to stay with them — like bearing witness to light moving through wreckage, stubborn and pure.
August 2021
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