I Was His Mid-Life Crisis

He was 38. I was 22. We met at a bar. I had just moved to New York and was celebrating my new zip code with some friends on the Upper West...

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Gendered Self-Destruction

Your waste is wine coolers, merlot, minty, thin cigarettes— set sexily in a delicate holder.

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Creating My Father’s Legacy: Martin Elkort’s Photography

In the spring of 2014, I stepped up to a podium in the Brown Auditorium Theater of The Museum of Fine Arts, Houston. The place was full and...

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Green Eyes

Shame thought she was my friend, keeping me safe in silence, cocooned in the quiet knowledge of shared secrets. She didn’t mean to make...

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Don’t Leave a Voicemail Unless You’re My Mother

Even with this clear instruction recorded on my phone’s greeting, invariably, friends and family will still leave me little messages...

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The Day I Started Dating an Italian Named Giovanni

Days passed, and romance blossomed. Of course, it wasn’t mine. Lee started dating Pietro, the round, balding member of the trio while...

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Potter’s Field

(for my sisters) Standing here in the glistening grass a new morning is breaking over this potter’s field* Thoughts and words flutter...

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I Call My Daughters Pretty ALL the Time

I have two little girls, and I tell them they’re pretty all the time. I’m their daddy, and I think they really want me to see them as...

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