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    Boy, Wind, Gilles + Félix

    The north wind whips through,   in the streets papers and leaves   are chased with resentment.   Houses moan,   dogs curl into balls.   There is something in   the afternoon’s finger,   a catfish spine,   a rusty nail.    from The north wind whips by Víctor…

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    Girl on the Monkey Bars

    There is a story about the miners at the Arctic Circle that Kathleen Stewart (2007) tells. The men are putting out cigarettes, every one they smoke, on the backs of their hands. The…