by Christine Taylor Jaizer Capangpangan The chiminea burns his paws crossed over my heart We’ve sought refuge in the backyard sweat dripping down a martini glass My breath catches the rhythm of his purrs As twilight succumbs to dusk cardinals swoop the feeder a woodpecker trills When I sneeze the cat jumps But he doesn’t flinch at sirens rushing towards Terrill and Front Settles again into my lap kneads my lounge pants his pupils open. I wonder how time will pass tonight? The

by Christine Taylor Kotaro Maruyama in damp back alleys in Thailand massage parlors in Japan smoky dance club basements in Wanchai the nurse questions why you’re here flips through the forms you’ve completed ink smudged on one line you explain what you know or don’t quite know pick at your cuticles she shakes her head asks you what you did and when you reply, “I came here,” she huffs sucks her teeth fiercely scribbles notes in your file the color in the room shifts sterile li