Sire Lines of America — Adam Peterson the 5th
Adam Peterson


In high school, his fellow students voted Adam Peterson Most Likely to be on Mount Rushmore which he thought was because he was a white man and had thick hair but was actually because he was made of granite and had dark hair. Afterward, Adam Peterson gave speeches wherever he went because he thought people needed to hear what he had to say. Desperately. My fellow Americans, he began, here’s the deal with Sally: she really has issues with her father. Then he married Sally, at least for a time. My fellow Americans, he told her, I’m afraid this can no longer stand. I must leave you behind in my pursuit of greatness. I personally blame everything on your father having left when you were a girl. Everywhere Adam Peterson went he left pieces of granite on the floor. After Sally, Adam Peterson never went anywhere, so all the pieces formed a mountain only slightly higher than his ankle. On the day Adam Peterson carved a smiley face in the mountain, he invited everyone he knew to see how what they said about him in high school was true. Sally showed up alone because her new husband was performing heart surgery on the Pope or something like that. Adam Peterson cleared his throat. My fellow Americans, he began, but then Sally’s baby started crying and drowned out the rest of the speech. It was mostly stories about boot straps and following dreams and calls for something that sounded vaguely like a flat tax.



Adam Peterson lives in Houston, where he co-edits The Cupboard, a quarterly prose chapbook series. His series of short-shorts, My Untimely Death, is out from Subito Press, and his work has appeared recently in La Petite Zine, Ninth Letter, Open City, and Denver Quarterly, among other journals.