Something Fierce
My mother bites into a Big Mac and her glasses catch the reflection of a purple neon light somewhere behind me. It is June 1979, and we are in a food court at Los Angeles International Airport. My favourite song . . .
Brick, a literary journal
Brick
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Toronto, ON M5S 2Y4
Canada
Each poet will write / their own hell. In mine, like yours, / I’ll be condemned to beauty. — Yusuf Saadi