Cover Photo: A close-up photo of an elderly woman wearing a collared grey coat and pearl earrings, her short, gray hair, moving in the wind as she smiles into the camera.
Photo courtesy of author

I Want My Mommy and I’m Glad She’s Not Alive for Covid-19

I wish I could talk to my mom about the irony that, forty years later, shelves are being ransacked and we are standing in lines to buy bread.


The Price is Rightanted her to say that everything would be okay. She was the only person who could cast that spell and make it stick.

I am suffering, I am suffering, I am under siege again, and this time I am losing ground.

OhThis is your old age. This is your frailty. Once, you held me. Now I hold you.

You are mine to take care of.


Daniel Elder is a 2018 Lambda Literary Fellow.  His writing appears in Catapult, The Rumpus, Pidgeonholes, and many more. He lives in Oregon with his cat, Terence, who writes most of his tweets. Find those at @tumblehawk, and find more writing at