“I will make much of your voices, and so trouble you no further”
There you are love, where are you off to?
A beautiful part of the world that, you have a lovely time, send us a postcard
All right I will
but I did work hard very hard but there wasn’t enough time because it wasn’t the right questions I did a lot of practice questions and there was always characters but this time there wasn’t I knew a lot but none of my top questions were there and that’s what’s wrong with doing exams Continue reading “New Street, between trains by Mary Frances”
Gullible eggs (reprise)
My mother lied with tenderness, sweet
aplomb, and range;
she’d seen a century, our crooked sea-swelled house
cost a million, and all babies were born with feathers
that softened the world’s edges
In the suburbs
At night, bodies unfold their pretty scars
and souls start rattling their cages.
Morning, always fresh and unhurried.
Midday is to be lived within itself,
good food, tempered laughter,
a bottle of Amarone.
There is an aristocratic cadence
in the way time punctures the day.
May 10, 1981
Continue reading “May 10, 1981 – A Micro Play by C. Aloysius Mariotti”
A Man and Woman glide slowly on a porch-swing while sounds in the Pennsylvania woods are of natural uneasiness: throbbing chirps and chops of buzzing crickets; deep, and sour, and mournful moans of creek-toads; maddening swoons and howls of dogs, or wolves, or monsters. She is covered to her shoulders in a wool blanket. His eyes direct themselves to an owl on a branch of an oak tree in the front yard.
MAN: I wonder what goes through their minds?
Again I come
To the dark room of my heart
From where I form the light
I am a spirit hovering
When my grandfather asked me to buy cigarettes at a local convenience store in front of our house one Saturday afternoon, I remembered what Teacher Gladys taught us in school that week.
She said cigarette smoking is bad – for the health and for the environment. I was eight when I couldn’t weigh which was worse. I didn’t want anything bad happening to my family, most especially to my grandparents.Continue reading “Rare Treats, a Flash Fiction by Angelo Lorenzo”
it’s dark inside
which suits me
it hides my imperfections
the guilt upon my skin
the dread in my eyes
as they size me up
sudden the homecoming
coyotes have learned to build traps
made of endings from the center of the earth
dressed as wolves they give them
to their loves who live in houses
with pink curtains and weather
dictionaries and streaming services
Its All Greek to me
For B. D. M.
“The embrace of men”
and you pirouette
behind the cash register
a new found bond at work
Elephant Slide in the Exclusion Zone
After David McMillan’s photograph, Pripyat, Ukraine, October 2002.
can sometimes mean to think
of them as a child: a wisped head
turned in a wheaten basket. Soft fists.
A bumblebee in a foxglove flower.