Author: eleemosynary

flyfires, nontree. by shannon baker fibersongs foam with hysteria. thousands seek personal freedom in agriculture. but (not here of course, someplace else perhaps) if you

boatpaper. by shannon baker every “why i am not someone else” lifts restlessly unwanted ribs. the rest are forced to listen. this lip of matter

sugar-secrets line the groping wheel. by shannon baker by the last days our sailing battery would have saved him. but all that wind between us

legless doom. by shannon baker there is a way of discovering. (the animal surgeon cuts apart while the rest only cut open.) by &by the

jerking the heartattack string. by Shannon Baker in the wetness of unstuffing the chest cell she woke, stirred beside her fleshheap, and realized she had