By S.D Gould Thank you for renewing your account. By continuing to exist, you acknowledge the following: I. Joy may occur briefly, without warning. Duration and availability cannot be guaranteed. II. Loss is included and will arrive without warning. Instances of loss may occur in triplicate. III. Meaning is not included in the base package and must be assembled from everyday items. IV. Support may be limited. Instructions are unavailable. Refunds are not possible. V. Loved on

By S.D Gould I choose a seat near the back. Good lighting. Terrible turnout. They’ve gone with lilies. Predictable. Kind of cheap really. No one consulted me. The officiant says I was “quietly brave.” I make a note to haunt him. My mother cries at the appropriate volume, I’m proud of her. Two of my cousins’ whisper about parking. Someone checks their phone mid-eulogy— probably to confirm I’m actually dead. They call me kind. Resilient. A private person. No one mentions how ex

By Yucheng Tao The midsummer fire still hangs on / descending with the dusk / Squirrels rush / from hollow trunks shooting me a quick glance / When I am trying to pluck out / my drowsy eyes to peel reality / from my sockets to return / to a forest dewed with rain to hide / from the suffocating heat licking at my bedroom / the damp walls with their paint peeling / falling in silence // A T-shirt clings to my face — it blinds me / My eyes still roll