Tag Archives: Meg Pokrass

Albino at Elimae

28 Jul

Sean Lovelace‘s blog referred me back to one of my favorites, Elimae, and their collection of Meg Pokrass‘ little fictions titled Albino, Mammaries, and Fido. I love, love, love it when bite-sized pieces punch me in the uvula. Here, read Mammaries:


“Nurse on me,” she said, “it’s very sweet.”
“How?” He liked her to show him exactly where, as though it were a secret.
“Just sip from here,” she pointed to her nipples. Her fingers on the left nipple, she pinched and didn’t wince. A drop of clear milk appeared. Bovine and fetching at the same time.
“Mmm. Mammaries,” he whispered.
The baby didn’t need them, had switched to soy.
The word “mammaries” made her giggle. They were oblong melons and would soon deflate from all of this.
Until he met her, his lips had been lonely and his ideas were faint. He believed he was shriveling — bones losing bone matter.
Nursing now, he felt blank, but not helpless.
“Babies cry because they don’t know,” she said.

See, don’t you want more now? Read more here.