Photo by Kierstin Bridger
Three pieces by David Tomaloff
Sundresses and summer have replaced her boys and winter. She walks lighter along the shore, casting names into the sea—beginning again, one by one.
Super Bossa Nova
I dreamt of you, a pirate ship, dark and fast approaching. I was a Royal Naval Fleet, no match for a galleass such as yours.
Windows make bad lovers, though they tend to make great cops. The salt makes its way to my lips, reminds me which side I’m on.
David Tomaloff is a writer, photographer, musician, and all around bad influence. His work has appeared in fine publications such as Mud Luscious, >kill author, Connotation Press, HOUSEFIRE, & elimae. He is the author of the chapbooks 13 (Artistically Declined Press), A SOFT THAT TOUCHES DOWN & REMOVES ITSELF (NAP), Olifaunt (Red Ceilings Press), EXIT STRATEGIES (Gold Wake Press) and MESCAL NON-PALINDROME CINEMA (Ten Pages Press). He resides in the form of ones and zeros at: davidtomaloff.com