You could drown You could drown. You could tumble into lukewarm, greasy water, and hit your head on a frying pan and drown. Or keep slipping over when you try to stand up and back climb out. Or scrabble madly, like a spider in the bathtub when the family is away – no flies for you …
The Summer King – first proofs
You'll have to excuse me if the NaPoWriMo post for day 9 is delayed. The proof copy of my first collection, The Summer King, arrived today! I was so nervous, I actually put it down and picked it up a couple of times before opening it. (Correction: before my friends demanded that I stop mucking …
NaPoWriMo 09 – day 8
untitled Down the hillside to the creek and the bellbirds singing their one mad song. A homestead gone so long all that remained were the things they'd planted. An orange tree, high laden and heavy. I remember thorns, branches grazed by cattle, and the scent of tobacco-bush. You took me down to the water, taught …
NaPoWriMo 09 – day 7
Raising the Admiral Frankly, I blame the goldfish, but who else could man a fleet so far from sea? Apart from me? It came to nothing. No, to less than less than that. The Iowans were waiting, and now Nebraska’s burning. Oh farewell, farewell, the endless fields of corn, where I dreamed of ships and …
NaPoWriMo 09 – day 6
untitled Setting sun, this shadow-gathered dusk in her eyes – she who taught me to read is lost. Long night after night, the words seep into pages, become river-mist, dissolve away by dawn. A broken cloud, her mind become a tangled skein of thought and blindness. She calls me by my mother’s name, asks the …
A Dark Feathered Art 