THE MAN O WAR
Clear blue blown glass on the sand. She’s immune to it. She can sit on the rock in the water that buoys her. Let her love handles be lapped by the waves.
The day was unusually sunny. Blades of grass fluttered in the wind and didn’t notice when she drew back from his touch. Their photograph buried itself in the grass. The circle of kids murmured. The big red-headed boy on acid squinted at the sun that winked from behind a tree in a forest. In the forest a circus was happening. From the woods came the parade of freaks. From the woods came the smell of hay, shit, and sugar.
THE NEW OLD COUPLE
She asks him if he likes to work puzzles. When he says no she laughs and says she guesses she’ll have to do them by herself on the card table. Her face is pink in the white ophthalmologist waiting room. She talks, reads to him, tells him stories. She is his lover, his sister, his neighbor. When they get in the car to leave it starts again.
-- Joan Biddle