She watched soap operas compulsively, writing lists unintelligible; we never bothered to know. I reprise her, spinning notes to nowhere–writing them out and throwing them out over and over, just as she did. On commercial breaks she would rise, sometimes quickly, and walk out of the room to mutter about the drama just suspended. IContinue reading “Muttering”
Tag Archives: prose poem
The Picture of Alice
The porch was a concrete block with steps formed into it and a visible tilt, or so I thought, like some chunk of brutalist architecture that had fallen out of the sky. It was about five by five feet. Young people were crowding there to smoke, despite the rain having lapsed into the faintest trace,Continue reading “The Picture of Alice”