Your mouth that opens with The enormity of banjo strings. As much as I despise you And how you have emolliated me In this age of silence being murder I still love you and hear your voice, Standing up straight and listening, Pretending your lips are on mine – Those magnificent lips pinkish-brown And full … Continue reading The Enormity of Banjo Strings
I put my body in the loch and knew no more about it afterwards than its temperature. Two swans circled and didn’t care. I carried home the skin of an orange, wet knickers, the noise of goats in the far field the shriek of myself in the water. This false summer is riven with itself: … Continue reading Miracles
A pimple-faced teenager is rifling through boxes of books at his neighbor’s yard sale. He looks over his reading list for the upcoming school year. His neighbor, a dangerous sounding woman wearing a winter jacket with a fake fur collar and metallic copper makeup, haggles over the price of an old toaster oven. Momentarily distracted … Continue reading Yard Sailing
For Dave There is sun. Three geese fly Close enough to the water’s Surface to be skipped stones. I take to the dock and hop into The skiff, collect the tackle box And rods from yesterday, even find Your Islanders cap that you swore The wind snatched. I look out onto the lake. The sun … Continue reading The Morning You Die
He sits by himself, at a cheap Italian place on Mulholland. Loud opera music, cheap bread, and Chianti in its little straw suit. After paying the bill, he finishes his decaf, and takes one of the Crayons from the glass jar, usually reserved for children. He never liked it here, but she did, and it’s … Continue reading Anniversary
I do not want children, yet I hide this from my Wife. She speaks of motherhood, pregnancy, asks Questions To her sister who has twin girls, shares photos With me Of her friends’ newborns. Aren’t they adorable, She asks. Look at how magical they are, she says. Yes, yes, I Answer. They are. Absolutely beautiful, … Continue reading Gestation
Memories flicker like lights on a switchboard. No context, just images. A woman with soft hands. We’re on a roof top...
Dry, brown pine needles drop off the tree onto the tarmac. The police watch from a safe distance. A fox goes back and covers his tracks. Less than a week later, a museum worker discovers a Da Vinci sketch of an electric car in an old trunk in the attic. A man with a plummy … Continue reading Requiem
ON PEARLIZED INVITATIONS, the words, “newborn babies required,” swirl above debossed emblems of storks. If potential guests are paying attention, they’ll see droplets falling from the satchel the stork is carrying, and they’ll probably think it has something to do with freshness and new life — and maybe it does. Mom insists on these hand-crafted … Continue reading The Pleasure of Your Company, and Babies, Requested for a Celebration of the Union of our Marriage
When you wrote the bloodhounds and bandages into the script it was a question of refuting the silence, of torching the thread on the way out of the labyrinth They will say you are a poor excuse for a wanderer, that you're still milling about the big summer when you were twelve and the one … Continue reading No More Summers