December 2010
4 posts
i have more to say to you, grampa. i’m sorry for crying in that stupid army vest, sorry for defending carnegie. i just saw this thing on the history channel; i didn’t know what i was talking about. i hope other things made you proud, a little, like that i call my father “da.” you know, kids tormented me for that, but i never stopped. because i know you rubbed his head when...
I see you in the grain of everything
and in the final verse
and in what is thrown away
in those processes.
Making beer, hand cream,
those byproducts.
You’re beyond me when I’m sweating,
You’re
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Author//Finisher
She woke up and gave her a name, following the track that led past the big, rocky outcroppings just beyond a mild stand of pines, marking the almost-end of the lot. She woke up old and auricular and she gave her a name: “You will be mine,” she said, “the highway at night, a lunatic in an old building full of monk rooms. The odds of seeing you will be like the...