They were in love. This is not a fairytale. She did not offer him a curl as a keepsake. Even then she knew, she had nothing worth keeping. They partook of each other It was not communion. It was not an offering to the gods. Like starving children, they feasted again and again on nothing….
The party girl was down, The pink chowder of puke Splashed in front, Dizziness like a carnival ride, All because of the slushy drinks Slurped on one of those docked boats On the Thames. Been there, Done that, I thought. I stepped Over her, just a lassie In jeans, her golden hair Lifting slightly, And…
On a Friday, during his inspection of the sludge containment tank at the East Winder Municipal Wastewater Treatment Plant, Calvin’s foot slipped off the catwalk—it was raining, the metal was wet—and his left work boot and left leg became submerged up to the knee in treated sewage. “Whoops,” said the plant manager beside him. The…
1846 My sisters loved my father and always came to his defense. They said he was brilliant and that much was true. He was generous with his family when it came to material goods, and my sisters never went without, at least until he lost everything we had. He was a notable man named John…
As sunlight or darkness fits itself around lamp, table, or mountain, silence stitches itself around hopes, thoughts, and words. Some hear it the sound of their own speech coming back from when they are dead. Some find it summer-cool pillow, winter wool coat. Some tack their names on its door and step inside. And if…
We pretended to know nothing about it. I withdrew to my childhood training: stay out of swampy undergrowth, choked edges.? This was around the time we were too cruel to kill the mice we caught, leaving them in the Have-a-Heart trap? under the sun-burning bramble of rugosa.? But moving up the trail, we caught a…
They had started out too late. This is what she tells herself as she sits in the dark on the old screened porch and drinks a glass of wine. Terrible wine—white, at least a week old, at room temperature. It had been sitting, recorked, in the box of last-minute things they’d brought up with them…
In a kitchen where mushrooms were washed, the mushroom scent lingers. As the sea must keep for a long time the scent of the whale. As a person who’s once loved completely, a country once conquered, does not release that stunned knowledge. They must want to be found, those strange-shaped, rising morels, clownish puffballs. Lichens…
My friends who were and aren’t dead are coming back to say hello. There’s a wall that they write things on.? They have status updates. What are you doing right now? For the most part, they seem successful. They have children, which I can only imagine. The hairy kid we called Aper, I haven’t heard?…
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