Excerpt from HART ISLAND

Gone are Sal’s poster of the fedora-clad Michael Jackson doing the Moonwalk and the Lord of Illusions movie bill, which was the only keepsake Justin insisted on bringing with him those many years ago. Still above the bed is the crucifix Ida found at the Salvation Army: Christ nailed to a driftwood cross. Blood is dripping from his palms, his side, and his crossed feet. His hair matted around the crown of thorns. His loincloth barely covering his sex. Sal pauses before it, notices the muscles in Jesus’s torso and calves cast in the amber light from the garage, and tries to remember the first time he thought Jesus was sexy (what was he, 12?).