“Remy and I would skip school and watch The Price is Right. He said it improved his English. We’d end up almost naked, but never quite, on the couch in my basement, smoking just enough of my mother’s grass so that she wouldn’t notice what we’d pinched. We were a pile of skinny arms and legs, with eyes blinking slowly at Bob Barker. We pressed cold Coke bottles against each other’s ribs and flinched, laughing. Sometimes Remy would fall on me, the full weight of his body on top of mine, and say This is a poem…”

Read it here, Issue 1, pg. 23: One Day I Will Buy You One Hundred Dresses