#63: Nonfiction by Olaf Kroneman
A RUMBLE FOR HUMANITY Your heroes can compromise you. Muhammad Ali put me at risk. The first time I encountered Ali, then Cassius Clay, was…
A RUMBLE FOR HUMANITY Your heroes can compromise you. Muhammad Ali put me at risk. The first time I encountered Ali, then Cassius Clay, was…
ARTIFACTS When I was growing up, I hated the crowded shelves in the living room, den, and hallway of our Upper West Side apartment. “I…
IN THE PETRIFIED FOREST My husband and I are turning circles in a parking lot. Circles and more circles. Very slowly. We’ve been doing this…
THE ART OF FUGUE They meet in Burlington, Iowa. My rail-thin mother with curly hair and her little girl beside her, my tall bony father with…
WOMAN-RADICAL: A FEMINIST LESSON IN CHINESE CHARACTERS 妇:lady is a woman who has overthrown a mountain 好:wo-man spelt as one word simply means good 妙:young…
THE RING ON RUBY RIFKIN’S PINKY When people in the old neighborhood mentioned Howard “Ruby” Rifkin, it was with a whisper. He was in the…
MAN ON THE MOON In her dream she was flying over the coast of Africa. Not that she had ever been to Africa, but she…
SOMETIMES GRASS IS A HAWK TO BE LEFT ALONE Forget what you know about hawks— the clawed mice, the breaking apart of their oyster shell…
TO SEE THE WIZARD Tornadoes scratched at the sky’s green edges, threatening ruin. Clouds swirled like dirty pond water, scummy algae surfacing and submerging. Tips…
WELCOME TO PARADISE In my junior year of high school, I saw thirty-five fist fights. The violence arrived one day like a mass psychogenic illness…
PRAYER TO THE TILES ON MY BEDROOM FLOOR Once, I hated you. Once, I wished for your softer cousins, toothless spreads. Once, I wanted things…
BROTHER JOHN We was country. That’s why when Mamma and Daddy Pete had John, we knowed he was special. He had him a light bright…
NEWARK As I waited for the garbage to be emptied into a truck, I was with a group of young men waiting to be taken…
TOUCHING I once heard that the oldest parts of the brain associate themselves with ritual. On default, the primitive brain relapses, in some beastly instinct,…
A KIND OF APOLOGY When you rise and the streetlight leaking in catches you, your hair swinging down, your breasts shifting, I hear the tumbling…