Gentle sheets of festive rain pass over the matted valley between Thanksgiving and Christmas. It was in the final Gayogo̱hó:nǫʔ class of the semester that...

One of the most endearing things about American myopicism is that you can, as a foreigner, tell them you haven’t heard of anything, and they will believe you. Hmm...

No matter who you are, it's worth making friends with lesbians. It's remarkable how much can be lost in a generation. Cultural transmission isn't 1:1, not a father uploading a lifetime to a son nor a mother to a daughter. It's a distributed, asynchronous, mutlivalent forest of echoes...

The flags have been at half-mast for more days this month than they’ve flown at summit. Warm concrete laps grainily against the ledge that drops off to the creek next to the police station. And the Hall of Justice. As the pressing, gay heat slackens...