Tag: roxane gay
Wayétu Moore: The Evolution of BerniceJanuary 2015
Being an immigrant made me feel different, but it was the color of my skin that marked me as suspect.
This, DesireNovember 2012
Guest fiction editor Roxane Gay introduces this issue's erotica.
The Weight of Rose PetalsNovember 2012
Winona eyed Frank down the long black barrels of the shotgun. She complained again about that whore he’d visited every Wednesday for fourteen years, before he lost his manhood in the accident at the rebar factory.
Café FleshNovember 2012
There was something fascinating about images of unknown semi-naked women; I wondered if there were newspapers filled with images of semi-naked men.
How I Gonna Bare My Neck Outside in the Sweat-Scared MorningNovember 2012
Six feet tall and arms like bundled wire. He go strutting the length of the house.
Magic City RelicNovember 2012
. . .I looked down at Omar’s pants to tear off his belt and realized that we were shrouded in such darkness, I couldn't see the buckle.
Boy, A HistoryNovember 2012
Notes on names Boy gets called at school: fudge packer, pansy, fairy, pillow biter, cock gobbler.
Jimmy Nolan has a thing for broads—loud, brassy women who sit with their legs open and drink beer straight from the bottle—women who always say exactly what they’re thinking and for better or worse, mean what they say.
There is No “E” in Zombi Which Means There Can Be No You Or WeBy Roxane Gay
They do not walk around with their arms and legs locked stiffly. They can be saved.