Don't Make Me Do Something We'll Both Regret
Stories
978-1-68003-248-2 Paperback
6 x 8.5 x 0 in
184 pp. 5 B&W collage photos. Heavily stylized pages. Decals throughout.
Pub Date: 08/01/2022
Available
The stories in Don't Make Me Do Something We'll Both Regret are linked by their exploration of queer evil. The mystery of desire and sting of rejection drive a child to violence. Boys enter the forest, naive to what lurks within. A pack of pop stars-turned-lovers strike a terrible bargain to preserve their youth. Its characters are gnostics and mystics, ogres and queens whose defiance of the normative both liberates and confines.
Innovative Prose
...
from “Tim Jones-Yelvington is a Pretty Little Liar”
My lovelies, I haven’t forgotten your secrets. Everything each of you told me in confidence. You said, Promise you’ll keep this to yourself. You said, Promise you’ll never tell a soul. You said, If anyone finds out, my life is over! I said, I’ll take it to the grave. Once, I came upon our frienemy in the marketplace. I said, I know what you’ve been up to! Don’t pretend your hemline’s clean! And she begged me, Keep your voice down! Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret. This is the new new me. Black feathered collar, black feathered cuffs, gold-threaded jacket, my shoulder plumage spills. I am a peacock. My chin is cocked. I am a libertine. I am a dandy. I am an emu, ready to stretch my neck. To sharpen my beak.
Innovative Prose
...
from “Tim Jones-Yelvington is a Pretty Little Liar”
My lovelies, I haven’t forgotten your secrets. Everything each of you told me in confidence. You said, Promise you’ll keep this to yourself. You said, Promise you’ll never tell a soul. You said, If anyone finds out, my life is over! I said, I’ll take it to the grave. Once, I came upon our frienemy in the marketplace. I said, I know what you’ve been up to! Don’t pretend your hemline’s clean! And she begged me, Keep your voice down! Don’t make me do something we’ll both regret. This is the new new me. Black feathered collar, black feathered cuffs, gold-threaded jacket, my shoulder plumage spills. I am a peacock. My chin is cocked. I am a libertine. I am a dandy. I am an emu, ready to stretch my neck. To sharpen my beak.
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Published by Texas Review Press
