Rewarded chocolate chip cookies after white ankles at first holy communion. Frankincense and abstinence hand in hand, girl boy girl boy canter to the altar christian doctrine right front wheel. Loose. Catechism question one; who made you? God almighty who at twelve years old can answer that existential phenomenon two; your soul, how must you…
Gracie turned on her side to look at the clock. She could tell by the way the sun struck the window and glowed through the frozen gauze around the bottom of the pane that a hard frost had come at last, that fall was beginning to be what it should be. All night the wind…
( from Part One of Chekov Was A Doctor) It began as liberation. Thursday afternoon we were released early from public school for religious instruction. My mother who could scream without raising her voice screamed, "Abe he disappears, ten years old and I can't keep track, Abe the street! Abe the element!" My father said,…
Dad screwed another cigarette into his lips crossed his legs folded his workman’s arms along his weed-stained lap (you can’t speak now not to him he isn’t here just watch watch him climb over the shed the chubby lawn home. watch my daddy smoke fantasy.)
Every day did not start with Vince awake that early, dressing in the dark, moving with whispery sounds down the stairs and through the kitchen, out into the autumn morning while ground-fog lay on the milkweed burst open and the stumps of harvested corn. But enough of them did. I went to the bedroom window…
"`The loss of clothing,'" Grent reads, "`implies free fall.'" I write this down. He pauses, scanning the page. "`In this general area a thumb was found hanging on a twig.'" I write this down. "`Whom we felt conclusively to be a member of the crew because the tissue was intimately associated with the control panel.'"…
it didn’t take long for papa to find his place. he sat down on the coffee table and pulled out his matches. the first one lit easily so he put it on the floor between his feet and the flame sandwich ate him up. mama came in screaming and running about like my rabbits in…
The things it never does any good to protest. With our only son, Billy Frank, Jr., in a Mexican jail for having been intercepted with something illegal strapped to his leg. With daughter Mary Jo making daily visits to the shot-doctor for “vitamins,” leaving her probably autistic child in a playpen fitted with baubles and…
The following pages constitute a discovery section in that the work is by writers who have not previously had a national appearance. To obtain their work I canvassed such teachers and writers as George Starbuck, Denise Levertov, Kenneth Rexroth, and Tim O'Brien, and drew from my own students at Emerson College. We hope to repeat…
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