Late afternoon & my brother and I are moving through the strewn hallways of the future. The ceiling is unadorned, & a cloud of sulfur hangs from it, benign and low, wetting our eyes. My brother holds an unlit cigarette in his mouth, a loose screw. A needle protrudes from his arm like a white… [Read More]
Jane Huffman
Van Gogh, a Venn Diagram
On the one hand, there’s what he painted first, the sound of (yellow leaving the season, the surface in the water pitcher rising, green glass shutters, a series of open-ended) questions. His bedroom in Arles (was all imagination and fir) teemed with angular intrigue: two doors, two windows, cooler kinds (of air than he was… [Read More]