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Beard River


Loley Line Drawing_edited.jpg

35.26210922539676, -112.1869193381526

WHY DOES WILLIAMS, ARIZONA MAKE ME SO HAPPY? Everything is miniature here. Like a child cowboy set it down and then forgot to play with it because it was dinnertime, after all. Not much to look at so everything is paired down. It’s like Universal Studios.  And maybe I feel properly sized, no longer short or petite. I'm a real western woman armed with a weapon smile. I only carry it so that you know what belongs to me.  And then I saw you standing behind me as I tied my son’s shoes. Hey little lady, cute kid. Your voice wafted over me from behind and I almost sent vomit out to the street. And you wore your stupid cowboy hat and all your Flagstaff get-ups. The Whole thing. Like some sort of dusty punk beach giddy-up show. Fashionista with glasses and auburn beard you were the larger than life body type that always swooned me.. You took us into the pizza parlor and bought us pizza and let me take your picture with my phone. 


And you gave my son some turquoise. A turquoise stone from the suit you were wearing which he keeps in his jewelry box even today. He doesn't remember that moment or the gift. But I do. I remember how you would do a line of cocaine before fucking and wondered why you had issues getting hard at 33.


KATIE KING is a second soprano who always wanted to be an alto. Wearing blue suede heels to breakfast, she finds herself allergic to the banana. She lives at high altitudes telling middle-brow jokes to her second grader, who tells her to get real. The lady doth wish she had happy love stories to write. Still, only pain itself drifts to her hollowed doorstep.



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