The Tsar of Love and Techno

by Anthony Marra

fear for her future in a country whose citizenry is forced to assemble its own furniture.

If a stopped clock is right twice a day, a bad haircut is right twice a decade.

Hipsterdom’s a tightrope strung across the canyon of douche-baggery.

“Your zipper’s down,” she said as she passed me. Endurance, I reminded myself, is the true measure of existence.

Turning I would to I did is the grammar of growing up.