As a twenty-eight-year-old who grew up juggling late-night fast-food runs, endless indie bands, and an unhealthy fascination with the absurd, I felt immediately pulled into the cracked surrealism of M...

I could probably do a graceful topless backflip while eating a double bacon cheeseburger before I could write a good poem. I do think I could pull off a somersault or write a terrible poem. I can pr...

I haven’t been on what I would consider a magical journey. The closest that I have come to magical, and I’ve mentioned this before, is when I shit my pants at Disney World when I was nine years old, ...