The first time I met God, I was draped in a rough, elephant-colored bathrobe, worn soles on my slippers.[…]… Read More “Portrait of a Smoking Lounge as Cave” by Jake Bailey

The first time I met God, I was draped in a rough, elephant-colored bathrobe, worn soles on my slippers.[…]… Read More “Portrait of the Mundane” by Jake Bailey

Bears don’t know the difference
between a fish that’s mostly dead
and a fish that jumps into a ready mouth. The waters part for a man of God. The waters part for a man with no God.[…]… Read More “Portrait of a Blackhole” by Jake Bailey

The words are mostly water and float easily between logs and silt, weaving their way into something understandable. I never agreed
to the terms of the contract, my heart a balloon loosed from fingers reddened to white.[…]… Read More “Severance” by Jake Bailey