Listen to a reading of “Addictions and Adverbs” by Harmony Neal.
The man is a white horse, a tiger, a dragon. I want him the same way I want that cigarette I’m not supposed to smoke. If he was around, I’d sneak out to the porch and light him on fire.
He invades me nightly. Then he’s on the outskirts of my brain all day, spying, following me to fold laundry and wash dishes, trickling through my earbuds while I walk for miles in the same place at the gym, his essence infiltrating Kristin Hersh’s vitriol, every song about