My father stands in the warm evening on the porch of my first house. I am four years old and growing tired. I see his head among the stars, the glow of his cigarette, redder than the summer moon riding low over the old neighborhood. We are alone, and he asks me if I am happy.…
4 tygodnie temu
It’s wonderful how I jog on four honed-down ivory toes my massive buttocks slipping like oiled parts with each light step. I’m to market. I can smell the sour, grooved block, I can smell the blade that opens the hole and the pudgy white fingers…
4 tygodnie temu
We don’t see the ocean, not ever, but in July and August when the worst heat seems to rise from the hard clay of this valley, you could be walking through a fig orchard when suddenly the wind cools and for a moment you get a whiff of salt, and in that moment you can almost…
4 tygodnie temu
Today the snow is drifting on Belle Isle, and the ducks are searching for some opening to the filthy waters of the their river. On Grand River Avenue, which is not in Venice but in Detroit, Michigan, the traffic has slowed to a standstill and yet a sober man has hit a parked car…
4 tygodnie temu