"Across the Berlin memorial was another, this one dedicated to homosexuals persecuted by Nazis. It’s a massive asphalt cuboid built with an internal video screen broadcasting, at the time, two men kissing.
Two men kissing. I would have been persecuted by the Nazis for that alone, if Dad didn’t get to me first."
"Mom bawled as she told me this story when I was too young to understand: Auntie confronted her rapist eye-to-eye, warning him he desecrated Hopi traditions, sacred norms that outlasted colonial darkness. Auntie never reported her rapist to tribal police. Instead, she let the bastard fight tooth and nail against himself, sentencing him to a long life of guilty ownership that ate him alive."
Man in the maze
"I kissed his cheek. Dark whiskers scuffed my lips. He tussled in his morphine slumber and he bubbled a whimper. There was a dire expression that cracked —his crinkled, with-worry brow, like a dog swimming in circles tirelessly searching for the easiest way out."
D.A. Navoti's work has appeared in Spartan, The Explicator, Cloudthroat, and elsewhere, with previous scholastic research presented at The Evergreen State College and UCLA’s Thinking Gender Conference. He writes essays and fiction.
He received writer fellowships from Hugo House & Jack Straw Cultural Center, residencies from The Seventh Wave & Gullkistan, and holds an M.A. in English from Northern Arizona University and a Master of Liberal Studies degree from Arizona State.
He grew up in Phoenix, AZ, and is a member of the Gila River Indian Community, a descendant of Akimel O'otham (Pima), Hopi, Zuni, and Yavapai-Apache tribes.
D.A. lives and writes in Seattle, WA.
© 2019 by D.A. Navoti