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Category Archives: garbage sonnets

            Recall the dream you had the other night: a hodgepodge structure, living room and porch, people sitting out there in the dark, no light but moon and stars, the flare of a kitchen match at the bowl of papaw’s pipe- wasn’t he a big man!- Prince Albert tobacco smoke, the wind. The exposed room […]

  She asks you how you’re able to be alone so much.  You’re good at it, upbringing.  Mama told you once, remember:  early spring, the cold sunny, dormant playground, harsh, the moan   and whistle of northwest wind through telephone wires, sycamore leaves not yet unrolled– nothing moves, nothing to grab and hold, the desolate […]