Death is an allergen, a foment, a farce. Death is a handler of wild turkeys and other animals with grotesque physiognomy, like baboons. Death hates it when the mariachi band comes to town—death is the wet fish that stands on the sidelines, arms crossed, while even the village fool is dancing. Vanilla custard. Hot dogs…. [Read More]
Author of a collection of poetry, The End of Spectacle (Carnegie Mellon 2018), a collection of short stories, Anatomical Gift (Noctuary 2017), and two chapbooks, Virginia Konchan's poetry has appeared in The New Yorker, The New Republic, Boston Review, and in other publications.