A Morviv kit consists of two pre-filled syringes with ready-for-use sterile solution for injection, plus a special timer. Syringe A (with a red safety cap) contains a clear, colorless or slightly opaque liquid with 5,000 IU Morviv death-inducing polypeptide. Syringe B contains a clear, colorless liquid providing the resuscitation solution.

Every Saturday morning my great aunt Giovanna repainted her apartment. I should mention that this process was not a simple repainting of the walls. No, this was an artistic re-imagining of everything: chairs and couches, radiators and beds, shoes and chandeliers.

I’ve lived in six homes, seven rooms and two countries I was not born in since leaving my parents’ place. When I return it’s not just a physical move, it’s also a reacquaintance with the familial realm and streets I did some growing up in.

There’s this loud grunt when he comes.
In different circumstances, it might bring
rescue vehicles, but for now it’s pleasure.
It just comes with a long,

He wore a suit, tattered by the elements. Mud had stained his pristine leather shoes and constant rain turned the Armani vest into a sodden mess that stuck to his slim frame like a second skin. Overall, Jonas Van Halen drew a sad shape in the night, outlined by the sputtering fire he had somehow managed to create under a rocky outcrop. 

Today the rain speaks in French, the French I failed to learn in high school. Also, the French I failed to learn in college. Also, the French I failed to speak in Paris. Also, the French I failed to speak in Lyons.

Morris Mordes was meek
talked with flowing motions
a cross between a rabbi and a ballerina
worked as a room maid in a Manhattan hotel

“—and the whole disgusting mess with the intern. You know she’s probably dead by now,” Glenda declared, sipping her Limoncello on the warm May Mother’s Day afternoon.

Dark blacktop
is lit again and again
by headlights
at night

After the fire I heard your voice,
low and Midwestern: the syllable
bursts of erratic heat, hoarse
cadence musical, familiar.

I am a zoologist. Probably Jean Louis Rodolphe Agassiz, teleported from my comfortable office seat in a low grade office to the middle of a desert – I am a creature that is tired of seeing itself. Its eye opens only unto within. I am an intruder into its acts of self lust.