by eric ingram
I am competitive except when
it comes to hide and seek. As a child,
anxious for him to catch me, I pretended to bark when
really I peed. I stand
under muave photographs of landscapes
waving these unwashed hands. Doing this
barking. Big dogs bite when
almost touched. Touch but
do not look. I have no body
to be bitten, see, but the bite proves
the food. Let me decide how
to lose. Let me confute
tragedy: I ought to be man
and I will be wife. We’ll hide in
urgent bathrooms, desperate to be
sought before sightless nightfall.
Eric Ingram is a writer from San Diego. He graduated from Columbia with a degree in philosophy and visual arts. He lives in Los Angeles, where he works as a video editor in Hollywood. His writing reflects the structures of millennial life, LGBT experience, and mental health issues. Eric is represented by InkWell Management and is working on his debut novel. He can be reached at eric.ingram.eric [at] gmail [dot] com, and on twitter: @ingramsandiego.
Art by Michelle Johnsen
Michelle Johnsen (art editor) is a nature and portrait photographer in Lancaster, PA, as well as an amateur herbalist and naturalist. Her work has been featured by It’s Modern Art, Susquehanna Style magazine, Permaculture Activist magazine, EcoWatch.com, EarthFirst! Journal, Lancaster Farm Fresh Cooperative, and used as album art for Grandma Shake!, Anna & Elizabeth, and Liz Fulmer Music. Michelle’s photos have also been stolen by AP, weather.com, The Daily Mail, and Lancaster Newspapers. You can contact her at mjphoto717 [at] gmail.com.