Heather M. Surls was a Californian until she got married. Since then, she’s been a semi-nomad, first living near gloomy, coffee-addicted Seattle, then spending two years in Israel, where she worked for a study-abroad program and visited Jordan and Egypt. She now lives in the Chicago suburbs, where she continues her international experiences among Burmese, Vietnamese, Turkish and Liberian neighbors. You can find her work in Prairie Light Review and Relief .
I’d been thinking about leaving. I’d been thinking how there’s something about out here. Before long it’s a new January and you’re hungover with a heartache for a man you won’t see for several years until he pops up on that very popular, critically-acclaimed sitcom with that actress you learned to like, then hate, then feign indifference abou
The leak in your breathing/ tube makes a cartoon squeak./ It takes two nurses, silent/ as nuns, to place you/ in my arms...
If I have already/ gone insane/ but I want to get/ crazier yet,/ what’s my move?/ Go outsane?
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