Somewhere in Maine an Old Dream Staggers On
Feb, 26 2013 | no responses
Spell the name slowly before you come, as I have asked you to come, bearing me a sea-blue porcelain platter piled with what remains of what Maine was. As I said, the name can be that of anyone you wish never to see again, knowing if you did, your life, and happiness, were you to [...]
Feb, 26 2013 | no responses
Four years before I changed my name to Silas, when I was twenty, I briefly dated a girl who was deaf. When we were together, I still identified as a lesbian—a butch lesbian. I was a feminist, a women’s studies major, a frequent attendee at Ani DiFranco concerts. I was also firmly in denial about [...]
Feb, 26 2013 | no responses
[hear the author read this piece by clicking this link.] I was born on a hill two blocks back from the Pacific Ocean. I was born in a garage apartment that I never saw, and then my parents moved even farther from the shore. That was before my father went back to Vietnam, taken with [...]
Children Dug Out of a Parsley Bed
Feb, 24 2013 | no responses
Oxeye daisy with its petal rays, unassuming eyebright’s honey spot. I found a wildflower called Alma Potschke. Lilium, lady’s thumb, rosy pussy toes. Violet patch by bean pot, apple tree. Wild rose on Henry Street. Scent, messages, allusive flower, special name. Great Aunt Violet’s beloved primroses, her exquisite virgin’s bower. Who better understood than any [...]
Still Life with Nervous Animals
Feb, 23 2013 | no responses
Too much was stolen that day to change his mind. What grew on the goats stayed on the goats as he fell into himself. The revolution was flattered, talked into a microphone that resembled a human body. Misery assembled with a peculiar silence, diseased and searching through his childhood. But it was the years afterwards [...]
Nov, 15 2012 | no responses
feature image from wili_hybrid. fly back what you’ve dealt indelible name, seeds pine needles actually needles stiff as though or large her hands shape white scars in the air in death valley in a lake bed (“the racetrack”) spooky stones dig out tracks (“peripatetic” “ice collars”) war makes its ghosts irritable, all the incursions, [...]