Shari Green

they say grief is the price of love, as if there’s a penalty for loving, as if it breaks rules or laws or expectations . it’s a laugh, really, what they say about grief, what they think they know about love; it’s their rules that have a cost—the rules written on their face as they […]

the world is on fire and my mother is planting tomatoes   we sit down to dinner—like a proper family my mother says, even though we are mismatched, even though my so-called brother is rarely proper; my step-dad turns on the tv news scoops up beans, meat, corn while catastrophes blare from across the room, […]