"In the dark: I catch her hand on the windowlip of one of the panes in my body..."
"I didn’t have a mask or gloves. Two old Italian women, in thick black shoes, inched in my direction. I moved back. That’s when I slipped...."
The Loud Prophecy of Deaf Republic by S. T. Brant All books are instructive; the value is in their secret instruction, the teachings the author offers us on second and third readings, when time mingles with reflection, when the text takes on a special aura, as a solar eclipse, a rare presentation of light brought naturally... Continue Reading →
Costumes for a Different Woman "The dresses in my closet are costumes for a different woman, though I hide myself in their silky textures. The man asleep in my bed knows me best in the dark." Linda Pastan He grows smaller. Somehow he makes this old house feel draftier, like we live in a bank... Continue Reading →
At Auction Mrs. Breton’s third-grade class dealt in teeth. Mostly incisors, but canines were coveted most. No one took a shine to molars except Milly. She said they were smoothest, like plaque-covered pearls. The teeth were kept in pencil cases, swapped in calculated exchanges, polished with eyeglasses cloths, and used to practice subtraction. Some kids... Continue Reading →
Limits of the Flesh On fine afternoons, where the sun slips just right through the trees, I imagine being smashed beneath some dense, massive object. It’s happened, you know. Not to me yet, but to others: in a warehouse where the lift fork slipped, a dockyard where the pulley gave. I make fourteen dollars an hour saying,... Continue Reading →
Overturned I blame the gallows. I’d wanted to see them ever since I saw that movie and figured it would make a good stop on the drive from Atlanta to Oklahoma City. I was going home for Thanksgiving but also for my Aunt’s funeral—an imperious woman who crocheted tiny pink and blue hats for preemies... Continue Reading →
Collateral Instead of exchanging actual gifts, we wrote poems about trees. The metaphors extended like plastic bags about to drop: his tree was naked and praiseworthy and obviously my body in the cold interior of his car; mine was bending under ice in a cemetery I loved, where he decided he loved to park his... Continue Reading →
Crush Johnny laid flat on the road as we waited for the school bus. I asked, “What’s wrong with him? He’ll get crushed.” My sister said, “Duh, he’s crazy.” Like that, I wanted him, though he was in high school and I was eight, though I hardly knew what wanting meant. Johnny had a sister,... Continue Reading →
To the houseplants during a depressive episode I used to tear open helicopter seeds. I’d bury them in the mulch and wait for growth. They came down by the thousands, tumbling from the three large maple trees. I remember the smell that came with them as they decayed. We’d rake them up. Those that were... Continue Reading →