Juteau is tracing power lines with her fingers as we lay together in the grass by the old school near the airport. Her hands dance in the air, sliding this way, crossing over that, like she is conducting an orchestra of electricity. She hums a tune as she goes, something I can almost place, but […]

I am building a god in my kitchen, piece by piece. His legs are old rusty kitchen tongs, the sort used for lifting ice blocks in the days before electric refrigerators. He is bowlegged, and his feet are sharp and full of tetanus. When he walks across the counters, he leaves scratches in the formica. […]