Four a.m., nothing moving, no hurry,dawn still has time to be choosyselecting its pinks. But now a breezebrushes across me—the way my skinis cooled off by the evaporationof sweat, this artistry, this systemsombers me: when I am blown fromthe body of life will it be refreshed?I dread the color of the answer Yes.
We know that somewhere far north of herethe two rivers Ba and Ab converge to formthis greater stream that sustains us, unitingthe lifeblood length of our lands: and we believethat the Ba’s source is heaven, the Ab’s hell. Daily expeditions embark upcountry to findthat fork, to learn where the merge first occurs.Too far: none of…
There are too many characters in this book I’m reading.I can’t keep track of them all.How can I care who marries who, or what they wear?Nevertheless, each time one vanishes, I feel a sharp, bright grief,knowing they will not reappear. This is how a boat drifts out to sea from shore.It gets distracted and detached,…
I see your clothes laid out on a bed:an elegant dress like a soft skinwaiting for you to enter itand go to a funeral. Even from here I can seethe fabric is soft, good quality.If you’ve left your dress on the bed your bodymust be close by… A larva enters a cocoon, emerges— Black butterfly,…
Blood on the Moon —James Ellroy I thought the demolition derby orsoap box derby or a roller derby, anyway,was where I would accompany my friend Pilar. I thought we’d be out the doorwhen I mentioned “derby”, but not on this day.She just wanted to spend the hours at home; join the anti-social corps,maybe some quality…
for Miroslav Nikolov In the year I graduatedfrom West Daffodil Sr. High Schoolthere was so much romancein the hallwaysthat, by the end, the powersthat be—weary of it all—cancelled the prom. This forcedus to explore each other’sundraped bodies exclusivelyin such automobilesand private homes as our districtafforded. The moral hereis not what you think. It isn’t reallyabout…
in all things, sonny boy, my father advisedwhen I complained the mulberries that dyedmy lips the protuberant shade of a girl’shad left me with a stomachache.He ascribed the quote to Socrates,his source for all words to the wise.But how did one acquire the wisdom to knowwhich mulberry on the tree that shadedour rented summer cottage…
Driving behind the slipstreamof a truck, I wonder what the ruckus is,and pull over to the shoulderwith the radio off and the radiatorticking down until it clicksin rhythm with the ticking of their wingtipsand that mocking, ridiculous,bickering caucus begins to sound like bliss.It isn’t music, or worship,or even familiar, but the words itfills me to…
Parted, after thirteen years of shoutingand silence and three kids. I wasthe middle one, the one in the middle. Sundays he took me to the movies,to the luncheonette, to see the freakson Mermaid Avenue. Have I erased my sisters from the story?One was still an infant,the other Mother’s ally. It must have been winter. He…
No products in the cart.