Organized Sound

Writer | South Bend, IN

Imagine me ink.


"The Farmers Market"

A story—or rather, thread of short-shorts—from Dave Schuman. His ‘short fiction’ class at Wash U rocked my world. He’s the bees’ knees.

"I want to go/where soul meets body"

Space Traveler Sex

So strange how your bodies must

stay closed to survive, how you teem

at the walls of yourself: the pressure

your insides are under—

as if one could twist a cap and hear

the hiss of soul escaping.

But up here are species wondrously

permeable: who take into and release

from themselves with miracle ease,

in the way your right hand, say, might

pass through a beam of light, or how

you might dive into a body

of water. You’ve been wondering,

I know, about alien sex.

Though of course all sex is alien:

even within species, as if curiosity

were a biological dictate.

But the real stuff: what happens

up here, among the stars—

the spasms and plasmas

of a thousand thousand unlikely

interfaces: how creatures of stone

spark like flint; creatures of liquid

combine into a single current

and then dissociate, branch off into

separate beds or simply freeze

into distinct layers, according

to their differing densities.

Look, human, only to your own—

none among you without (after

a fashion) desire, and none that, cast

in the soft filter of appetite, won’t

pique another’s will. Well,

so it is with us: we need and find

and lose, and need and find.

—Benjamin S. Grossberg

“Silencing and remembering, I offer, serve as Janus-faced articulations of power embedded in the production of the past. Recovering the silenced voices of historical production restores the voices of the subaltern; uncovering why and how the past is remembered reveals the strategies and ideologies that silence social actors in the present.”

—   Richard Flores, 2002
Chicago: cityscape from Shivani’s apartment