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Zarina Zabrisky's Writings

View Zarina’s Books | Read Zarina’s other writings below.

Poem
Dec.30.2012
Bone Orchard Poetry
CANCER     her hair is crimson-orange   crisp   fruity   cranberry   citrus       she says, "i'm going to die--"   sighs and goes on, "dye my hair,   since i might lose it   anyway.  chemo."       an airy curtain swirls in the wind.   traces of sundae flavor   hang in the...
Short Story
Oct.31.2012
Bluestem Magazine
I am a good girl.  I go out because I love dancing.  When I dance I’m one with the music.  I have always danced.  Since I was five.  That’s why I became a stripper, because I loved to dance, not because I needed the money.  Because of course I needed the money for me and my kid, but I could do sex work or wait tables, but I...
Short Story
May.27.2012
Fiction365
Speed It was midday, and the maraschino cherry in my cocktail glass glistened like the blood-red of my toe nail polish. My shoulders smelled like coconut sunscreen, the sea smelled of sex and shrimp. Waves rolled gently. I brushed the golden sand grains off my ankle and dropped the paperback thriller in my lap. Blinding sun ink-spots flashed underneath my...
Short Story
May.27.2012
Composite Arts Magazine, Issue 7
THERE IS ALWAYS A WAY OUT  I lost my wallet.  It probably was stolen but I didn’t notice when it had happened.  I was too busy roaming Dormini: uphill through the Gothic downtown and downhill to the Jewish ghetto and all the way into the concrete outskirts, from medieval gutters and gargoyles sprinkled with pigeon droppings to the Museum of Funeral...
Short Story
May.27.2012
Infective Ink
THE LAMP The best part of the night is setting the dinner table, arranging the foil hearts between the vanilla and cinnamon candles. Cooking is not my favorite thing.  I just made pasta, with a fancy sauce that my roommate Lauren gave me. Lauren sang the recipe by heart, dancing around the kitchen in her purple lingerie swinging her mascara brush around...
Short Story
Feb.18.2012
The Blinking Anthology, UK
Have you ever been to Bakersfield? Most people just stop to pee there. Lana lived in Bakersfield. Before Bakersfield, Lana lived in Tengiz, Kazakhstan. In case you’ve never heard about it, it was in the middle of nowhere. There were tumbleweeds, camels, and oil. There were also Americans looking for oil. Lana dyed her hair like Marilyn Monroe, powdered her...
Short Story
Feb.13.2012
Red Fez, Issue 42
When you need heroin, you can’t sleep, you can’t eat or drink. Your teeth shatter and goose-bumps run up your forearms, the downy hairs stand on end and you know these are your hands, your hairs, your goose bumps, but you don’t feel like it’s you. It’s been almost a day, and hot sand burns in my bones. In my mind I reach inside the grainy marrow and scratch...
Short Story
Feb.04.2012
BANG OUT
  Mr. B. had everything.  Once an orphaned immigrant from Andorra, he made a fortune selling artificial snow.  The factory, located in Jaffa, Israel, imported snow first to Switzerland, and then worldwide. An entrepreneur and a multi-billionaire, Mr. B. sponsored multiple humanitarian projects: The Happy Human Machine; the Transatlantic Bridge...
Short Story
Jan.18.2012
Escape Into Life
PISTACHIO ICE CREAM   Zoe did not jump off a bridge or a tall building.  Instead she got up from her couch, shoved Gabriel into his car seat and drove to the New World Russian Deli and Bakery. “Mommy, I want to go to a toy store,” said Gabriel. “No,” she said.  “Let’s get some ice cream.” Inside the store, the marinated cabbage and pickled...
Poem
Jan.16.2012
Mad Rush Magazine, Issue 1
BUS STOP Tangerine tiger woman Traces her orange finger nail Up and down her zebra purse Over the broken zipper Over the torn nylon On her suddenly naked thigh Kohl around her chocolate eye Sequins under her peacock fur Her purple lips Of a tired whore The scent of alcohol Wrinkles Dimples Blue capillaries Human knots Nude wings A foreign word A smile Is she...