Grace Q. Song


Actually, I need help with calc. Your
bangs look like a skirt. I’m eating the
chocolates you sent me. Where are you going?
Don’t answer. Keep your
eyes on the road. Soon, we’ll all
fly away to Mars. That’s where the
good dogs go, my sister says. Tell
her about the postcard from
Italy that fit in the wing of my hand. I’m not
joking. What do you mean, I don’t
know? That’s what the textbook said.
Look, it’s right here. The dress you
made. On the back of the door.
No, I’m talking about my earring.
Oh. Sorry, I didn’t see that. My
phone died. Wow. What a dead end
quest. Listen to a bite of
Rachmaninoff instead. The sound, three hundred
seventy-nine billion light years away.
Turn the radio on. Only when
u come and
visit me. Don’t leave until
we’re all done singing. Here’s the answer:
x² + 3x + 8. Are you sure?
Yes. Okay. Thank you a
zillion times.

Grace Q. Song is a Chinese-American writer residing in New York. Her poetry and fiction have been published or are forthcoming in the minnesota review, The Journal, The Offing, The Cincinnati Review, Southern Humanities Review, Poetry Northwest, and elsewhere. She attends Columbia University.