Aubergine Appendage
Smashed my foot into a steel bookcase in my studio. I thought nothing of it—blurt out an ouch and moved on, peddling between tasks.
The toe bloomed purple, bloomed red, then plum, then black. My aubergine appendage. The pain was tolerable—I thought nothing of it. Leg propped up on the couch in the first dart of spring. Curious thing, the feet.
When the X-ray arrived, my doctor pointed to the tip of my fourth toe. Broken, he pronounced. Tiniest bone shard. Hovering planet. I was uncertain how to proceed. Your body will break down the bone and re-absorb the shard, my doctor told me. Shocking, the body’s capacity to digest itself. The toe a mandible. Crunch, crunch bone.
Because my toe is swollen and sensitive, the only shoes I can manage are a pair of orange crocs. I croc to the doctor, to the market, and up the canal. I croc to the opera. And I croc to the airport.
Broken toe notwithstanding, I am miraculously in New York City for a few days—exclusively sporting neon crocs.
I will be reading at Unnameable Books in Brooklyn on Friday, April 10th at 19h, alongside cato ouyang, jason b. crawford, and darius phelps.
And on Tuesday, April 14th, I’ll read as part of an exhibition in wework x pompeii at 1000 Dean Street.
Come! Wear crocs!
R E A D :
Impact of Return by jason b. crawford
Won Exit by Elizabeth Metzger
Better than Berlin by Alaa Alqasi
This conversation between David Naimon and Olga Ravn is excellent ! Ravn discusses her new book, The Wax Child. Witchcraft, folk archives, embodied magic, and how we know what we know. I’m also linking the 2026 Booker Prize interview with Ravn and her translator Martin Aitken.
