Accepting the Habit

by Jennifer Lagier

Originally published on February 1, 1999

Penguins we called those untouched Brides of Christ who knelt on rough floors to escape burning dreams in their celibate beds. After Catechism we practiced mortal sin in our fathers’ orchards with befuddled boys tutored by dirty magazines, pretended octopus hands inside our bras belonged to movie stars. One by one we tired of dreams [...]

August in Escalon

by Jennifer Lagier

Originally published on September 1, 1998

Here in the land of churches and gas stations, we move sparingly and slow in the simmering heat. Peach fuzz rises with the sun. Days, over-exposed and glittering, melt into the same twenty four hours of recycled white noise. Asphalt softens like canal bank mud around concrete malls. Outside, roses cremate themselves colorless; blackbirds haven’t [...]