Standing in a one-track train station without a timetable, I wait for a train the ghosts say never comes but once a lifetime.

Of course, I ignore them—they are ghosts, after all, incorporeal beings always losing their shapes and everything contained in those shapes,

After a hugely successful past year at Expanded Field, we have seized the opportunity to break through our previous self-issued limits and expand our output of works. In the future, and starting with this (aptly themed) issue, Limits, we hope to be producing two mini-issues in the fall and spring.

Look at our need

for privacy in defecation

our shyness in courtship

to know our place, and us in it

all too well