ISSUE 50 | MAR 2015
Ani Hashem Rofecha by Michelle Bentsman, installation detail. Photograph by Ben Bentsman.
The wind tearing shingles off—ten pounds of ground beef—a facsimile of a footrest—That's mine, and I needed it once.—he had doubled his record collection—What you experience as memories, we experience as things—I still live with him. I am always there.—the faint aroma of future worth—I'm just fine.
an office not of her own making—a literal treasure-chest, but one lacking its key—Expanses of paper await an archeological dig—merely the whim of a bored bureaucrat—their primary contributions to the process are paper hats made of folded documents—an insatiable appetite for ink—an infestation of carpet-beetles in the bureau—Needless to say, the document is never found
a hospice bed—Displacement—rotary phone in the kitchen—ossified indents—still life portraits—spotlighting the corporal wall—endlessly repurposed—to repress my sentimentality—Drying cracks—its margins do not bleed—something honest—like a temporary tattoo