[another unfinished fragment]
I fold myself out,
read all the sections, and
hold my hand over the horoscope.
Stain my fingertips with newsprint,
until I am classified by headlines,
inches per story, and unreadable bylines.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
My Boy is Ten
My friend Heather took this photo a couple of weekends ago. We went for a walk in the woods. It was a bit cold at first, neither my boy nor ...
-
Let me confess, first of all, that I don't read a lot of short stories. So while I'm a huge supporter of short fiction, I don't... -
Despite that fact that I'm fully aware that I'm home because I need to rest and, ahem, rest assured I'm doing just that, I have ...
-
The last few weeks of my life have been the most terrifying and joyful I have ever known. The purpose of this blog has never been to documen...
No comments:
Post a Comment