by Noreen Ocampo Kev Bation a tabby cat tries to swallow my knuckles. my first love drives me in his car. I hear I’m supposed to die at a place called Chicken Heaven. my teeth fall out. I tell a joke about acid reflux. the cat never explains the desperation to consume me. I fail multiple-choice tests. I’m always in high school. I sit at the back of the second violin section & the cellists begin to wear their cello cases, the black material conforming perfectly to their musica

by Noreen Ocampo Jim Gade We dug holes deep enough to bury ourselves, sand blooming dark beneath our neon shovels. Our skin bloomed beneath the neon, darkening sun & we danced, red-faced, away from the ocean, away from our mother, red-faced at the table. We never managed happy summer vacations. Happy summer vacations were for families who loved each other the way they should. I loved my brother the way I should, always. We were six & thirteen at the beach. When you are six &