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1 month ago | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
You want to put your darkness in me. All of it. As if it always belonged to me. Ruthlessrattlesnake of a man. Riding shotgun downthe highway, not ashamed. What could possiblypossess you? To think an entire night could fitin me. Slip inside the black sky’s haunches and limbs. The patient stars with their glittery thighs. The forearms. Deep in the heart of Texas. I could ruin you. Spend an afternoon with my headon your chest. The wild-wild-west of you sleeping
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2 months ago | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Share Facebook Threads Reddit Forward Print Copy link Why say it? That turf’s been soTrodden. Dusty. If not novelReserve it for a thoughtTo oneself. Can you repeat the overstatedAnd have it meanSomethingFor the first time? What’s not the first timeIf each time is the first? Already a reader? Sign In
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Jan 13, 2025 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Share Facebook Threads Twitter Reddit Forward Print Copy link What can I say about how the snowis falling this morning, almost imperceptibly? I am a long way from the people I love. Distance, I’m discovering, is betterin the imagination, though my imaginationhas been weak lately, caught Already a reader? Sign In
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Nov 18, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Share Facebook Threads Twitter Reddit Forward Print Copy link After Auden’s “Musée des Beaux Arts”how wrong they were, the oldmasters who opened windows and atestale bread and mourned endingsas though there was another wayto return to water. My children’s fatherplaced two cinnamon swirled slicesinto a toaster at midnight and buttered themwith such hard convictionI heard the crack and break evenfrom the upstairs bedroom, wherehe hadn’t slept in months. Already a reader? Sign In
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Nov 11, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
As a teenager I became aware of a need to talk to myself.
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Sep 23, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Share Facebook Threads Twitter Reddit Forward Print Copy link for Bob1. The chicken he hacked with his left hand,diced vegetables with his right. Gifted, his Western customers whistled backfrom the black vinyl booths. A splashof sesame oil, a grip of pepper, a nimble wristover high flame—chop, toss, and plate. 2. Gather your knives, sharpen with care. Collect your vegetables, dice with care. Decide on the cooking oil, select with care.
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Sep 23, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
with Matthew Zapruder Share Facebook Threads Twitter Reddit Forward Print Copy link To celebrate the publication of his new poetry collection, I Love Hearing Your Dreams, we asked Matthew Zapruder some burning questions. 1. Who is your favorite character in fiction; your fave character in life? Fiction: Elena Greco, “W. G. Sebald”Life: Vic Chesnutt (sadly, no longer), Vivian Gornick Already a reader? Sign In
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Sep 23, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Murdered by the world again. Brought back by the world again. I can’t seem to find where this desperation lies. Sayingit’s a shadow is too much, but I’ve taken in the highway and thesee-through reflection of my own face. It’s funny watching the people
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Sep 13, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Say I were to say, “Say something.” Say the woodwinds were full of snow. Or, “It’s blue, the shape of the air unable
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Sep 9, 2024 | 
narrativemagazine.com | Mimi Kusch
Share Facebook Threads Twitter Reddit Forward Print Copy link I walked up the hill to the olivegrove and stood among the trees,trying to memorize my awe.
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