We are shown their lives at breakneck speed. Quentin marries and has a son with the woman who sold fruit. Eliot lives with them and the four make a life in a small cottage next to the mosaic. Tragedy strikes and Quentin’s wife dies but Eliot is there to help pick up the pieces and raise their son. Quentin and Eliot, now past middle age, send their adult son to make his own life while they stay together, working on the mosaic.
I have to ask myself what children do
ask my students what they do
add some nostalgic twists
like the ending of cassette tapes,
the introduction of CDs and dial up internet
and voila: my childhood
You have fought for so long that you can recognize the warrior
in water. No part of it is soft but it is not harsh. You are powerless,
enveloped and entered. You are sinking and you are bodiless.
Now Adrienne turns her attention back to the original question Ray had asked her, the one about where she met her spouse. Thinking about it, she admits to herself that yes, for most people (including Ray) that should be an easy thing to answer, but for her it’s not.
A boy wakes up in the middle of the night with nothing
but the shirt on his back and the crayon in his pocket. It’s 1979.
There are no cell phones, no computers, no VCRs, no cable.
Just the illusion of freedom, raw talent, and time to kill.
people who follow directions
brown skin
people who don’t follow directions
brown skin
“What if you knew that it kind of irks me to find a perfectly good roll of toilet paper hanging there upside down?”
(Does toilet paper exist on other planets? Because we’re going to end up needing to find another planet once we can no longer survive on this one!)
Would he know he was living in the universe
where no one plays fair
where the prom queens
and cheerleaders die?
and I want to return your affection for a moment
to the small girl who peers into the spin
cycle of her mother's washing, who loves the movement
of clothes against the quick circumference within
My first memory of him: chasing me through the house as a child, my most cherished doll clutched close. Running, breathless, cowering into a corner as his shadow swallowed me whole. My mom screaming from downstairs that she was calling the police.
My neighbor once told me that when you put a dog down you will want to walk
into the nearest intersection and of course that is true. Not many know the sound
of a skull being crushed but there are some people who know.
The old woman smiled. “Stories can be lots of fun, but the best ones also help us learn. This story is like that. Many years ago, there was a girl who lived near here. Her name was Vivian, but everyone called her Vivi, just like everyone calls you Mimi. She was much like you, in fact.”
More protests are followed by threats.
Threats are followed my tear gas.
Tear gas is followed by rubber bullets.
Rubber bullets are followed by real bullets.
But when you look up again
mandible gears collapse the door,
and the nurse steps into the space
behind the light.
I took the money from my pocket and gave it to her. She put it in a brown leather change purse, got up and walked away. I held the oranges to my nose, inhaling their sweet, pungent aroma as I watched the pigeons create a pathway for her as she sauntered through them.
100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / The Elvis Machine by Kim Vodicka
Kim Vodicka is a sultry seductive poetess who crafts raw poignant poems about love addiction. The Elvis Machine from CLASH Books is a collection of reflective morning after verses and happy ending odes to pillow princesses. One rendezvous read inside The Elvis Machine and you will fall for this orgasmic love poet. Vodicka’s voice is an erotic blend Kim Addonizio, Anais Nin and Kathy Acker. This Memphis poet pens tempting carnal poems of passionate heartbreak. The Elvis Machine is filled with seductive poems that will spark an instant addiction. Vodicka’s memorable bittersweet love verses, will satisfy your poetic cravings.
100 WORD BOOK REVIEWS / Star 67 by Gina Tron
The breathless, unique poems of Gina Tron’s Star 67 resemble being hurled through a particular type of darkness, punctuated by dazzling and terrifying light shows that define pieces such as “Let Me In,” “Inside The Dome,” and the intensely vivid title poem. This collection, whose title is significant to the larger scope of this remarkable book, is broken down into three distinct, yet profoundly connected, sections. I recommend reading Star 67 twice. There are two different journeys to take. One is through that darkness. The other is through a series of intensely personal and creative sketches of survival and strangeness.