I had a job, a small one, navigating and archiving the Google Plus pages of the dead, marking them closed, adding those who fought in the Silicon War to the memorial circle. I liked to imagine their brains as humming circuits, at rest in the little oval.
Zen Arcade is a novel about zen, punk rock, and growing up in Minneapolis during the 1980s. We’ll be publishing a section every other Sunday until Summer 2015. This is the seventh section.
I learned to eat clams at Spinney’s Store, / pulling them out of the steaming pail, / a rinse in hot broth, dip in drawn butter. / I never lost my taste for the tough chewy tail, / whole fulsome belly like a soft briny egg, / the grit of sand and shells in my mouth.
America Vicuña hangs by her neck in the permanent shade of the carriage house behind the banana warehouse where no one has found her. What was the matter?
“Did the goats trample you?” he asks. “You can tell me. Did they trounce on your golden curls and stomp the memories out of you?”
My goats would never. I’d remember that, I think.
Boxcar is a novel in four parts by Robert Martin. We are publishing a new excerpt every two weeks between August and October 2014. This is excerpt number two.
A Lady’s Guide to Literature is a project by Casey Pendergast. This is the first section. We will be publishing it monthly for the next year. Get notified when the next section is available.
He thinks / the passing house a littoral one in the dark. / On his trip back to town in next day’s light / he will see it landlocked– / to think this will happen in a second’s / gasp. For now, he thinks / the moon out his window shines / a lakehouse on a shore whose waves he hears / glint in silvery footslaps all the way / to the rail’s end.