Girl Without HandsWalking through the ruinson your way to workthat do not look like ruinswith the sunlight pouring overthe seen worldlike hail or meltedsilver, that brightand magnificent, each leafand stone quickened and specific in it,and...
—Margaret Atwood
Red FoxThe red fox crosses the iceintent on none of my business.It’s winter and slim pickings.I stand in the bushy cemetery,pretending to watch birds,but really watching the foxwho could care less.She pauses on the sheer...
A Sad ChildYou’re sad because you’re sad.It’s psychic. It’s the age. It’s chemical.Go see a shrink or take a pill,or hug your sadness like an eyeless dollyou need to sleep.Well, all children are sadbut some...
Helen of Troy Does Counter DancingThe world is full of womenwho’d tell me I should be ashamed of myselfif they had the chance. Quit dancing.Get some self-respectand a day job.Right. And minimum wage,and varicose veins,...
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