The Architecture of a Haunting/ a lyric essay on ghosts, land, and survival

Black-and-white photograph of Shihadeh’s Food Market storefront, showing the shop window with signage and adjacent sidewalk.

My mom was an orphan, from a broken up, Irish-American-mixed family. Her mother was an alcoholic and prescription drug abuser. Her father disappeared. Never seen again. Felt for years. Real/ not real. Who knows. She lived in a scrappy trailer park and begged for food.

Read the full essay on Substack.

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