It lookslike achildmight’vetaken it. She didn’tlike to bephotographed. Before therewere kids. Before itfell apart. (while). He lovedbusting chops, hers noexception. Clandestine. Havingit allready: film locked, flash on— One, two, three Say cheese! Her glare— fixed, bold,burned, blurred. Continue reading Old Family Photo, 1987 by Matthew Corey
We weren’t great friends with them, but good. They lived above us and were outside smoking cigarettes more than a few times a day. They were both tall. She had dark, long hair; he was more scraggly and thin, and had blond hair…what was left of it, as he inched further and further past thirty. She was a little standoffish, he was more open and … Continue reading Gutted by Matthew Corey
dates a cousin of mine. She’s older, from Ohio. It’s said in the news he’s going through something… They stay at an upscale hotel, in a room on the fortieth floor. The stairs are outside the building and wrap around it. I have trouble going up, so does he. All eyes are on us. My cousin waits at the top, looking down. Just before getting … Continue reading Joaquin Phoenix by Matthew Corey
Caleb woke up thinking about the inherent contradiction in his name, feeling every which way about it. There was no agreement in Yiddish, only that it meant “dog.” Did it make him a cur? Or was it meant that he was loyal, man’s best friend? That he had a lot of heart. The jury was still out, after all these years. He knew people that … Continue reading Caleb – Dog or Heart by Matthew Corey
