Why Write? #28: Kirsten Clodfelter

Why Write? #28: Kirsten Clodfelter

I was eight years old the afternoon my stepdaddy cut my face. In my mind, already too old for saying stepdaddy, but he liked the way it sounded—that it made clear who was in charge. We were sitting at the kitchen table in my mom’s bungalow, my three-quarter-time...
We Assemble These Parts Into a Whole

We Assemble These Parts Into a Whole

I. The thought of you: Wild. Spreads and inhabits. In my mind, as you are in our shared days, uncontained. You heat through each neuron, the six letters of your name in lights. The fragile dendrites spark electric, every branch flooded with your current. Saturation as...