Sex, Frogs, and the New Political Order
“If you opened me up you would find no redness, no veins, only a political thunderstorm.”
You look like you’d be a compassionate lover.
Times
Is this the mountains episode?That glacier is my vagina
in flagrante delicto.
Why not?
Annesha Mitha is an MFA candidate at the Helen Zell Writers' Program at the University of Michigan. Her work is published or forthcoming in The Kenyon Review Online , Tin House the Open Bar, and PEN America. She tweets sporadically @anneshamitha.
Enter your email address to receive notifications for author Annesha Mitha
Success!
Confirmation link sent to your email to add you to notification list for author Annesha Mitha
More by this author
Horror in the Vast Rooms of the Internet
We die differently now that we have each other at the tip of our fingertips. We live differently, too.
Ghosts Scattered Among the Stars and My Father’s Ashes in the Ganga
On space debris and a father's remains.
What Happens to Our Numbers When We Die?
When I search for my father, I feel his numbers. Here’s a house number on my friend’s street that mimics the first few digits of my father’s phone. Here, at the 7/11, my receipt totals the amount of the last four digits of his SSN.
More in this series
Hunger Inside My Queer Body
“I wanted to be like that: hard and boney, a body full of fuck-you’s.”
Learning to Live in a Body That Fights Itself
I have spent most of my life hating the fact of having a body. It makes sense that my body would eventually start to hate me back.
Our Skin Does Not Protect Us from the Climate Crisis
I used to think the border between me and the world was formidable, unyielding. I didn’t yet realize the ways that the earth was acting on my body.