4. You walk slowly now. shuffling your feet that are covered with thin, grey moccasins; the thread loosening it’s grip on the worn out leather trying to hold out a few more days waiting for the inevitable snap to prove it was not strong enough. 5. The labored breathing sounding like a frozen... Show more4. You walk slowly now. shuffling your feet that are covered with thin, grey moccasins; the thread loosening it’s grip on the worn out leather trying to hold out a few more days waiting for the inevitable snap to prove it was not strong enough. 5. The labored breathing sounding like a frozen window pane in a blizzard as you lean your hands on the arms of the straight— backed chair in your living room that’s neutral and clover—green. Hands like fossils covered with onionskin for a tracing of what used to be. 6. Your hair dirty and unkempt no vanity is required anymore. Arms and legs with baggy skin like tights that are too big. A two—day beard covering barely concealed cheekbones. Thin, hospital robe: blue and white, cinched tight to keep a little heat in. I.V. Stand is the only thing that gets close anymore. Show less
The Price of Candles Douglas Haney Idon’t get out much. Get most of what I need down at Nelson’s, he gives me some store credit. I guess he knows I’ll pay him back. Maybe to the bar, but not much. I went to the doctor across town the year my wife Bette left, thirty-five years ago. It wasn’t no... Show moreThe Price of Candles Douglas Haney Idon’t get out much. Get most of what I need down at Nelson’s, he gives me some store credit. I guess he knows I’ll pay him back. Maybe to the bar, but not much. I went to the doctor across town the year my wife Bette left, thirty-five years ago. It wasn’t no big deal. Just a little blood. But Bette was worried. She didn’t know what she was talking about, but I told her I would go, and I did. I went to the bar last week. It’s just on 38th, though. Sinclair was working. I like him. He knows what I drink, pours it when he sees me. He says, "Here you go, old man.” I say thank you. That’s usually all, and I leave for home in a half hour. I think he gives me a little too much in my drink sometimes. Maybe he thinks he’s doing me a favor. The way he calls me "old man" makes me think that. I think he’s around fifty- five, I’m only fifty—seven. But maybe he does that for everyone. I’d tell him I don’t need his help, but I don’t want him to think I don’t appreciate it. A little drink is good for your blood. Last week, though, he said to me, "Wasup, old man? Waddaya been doin’?” I told him not much, but he said, "You gotta do something. You making some money somehow or something?” I didn’t know what he was getting at with that one, so I told him that I might go get my government check later. I told him I make some candles that the pastor buys and that’s some money, and little wax things, like statues. People never buy them. Then he says, "Yeah, I tell you that this job is pretty crummy sometimes. Hardly make enough tips to do nothing.” Things are bad all over. I had to go home then. So I got up and told him good luck. I was going to leave, but he said, "What are those candles you make like?” I told him Imake all sorts. I can make regular ones. Like people put on graves. For the church Imake really big ones, with crucifixes dyed on them. I told him I make different colors and scents. "Hey old man,” he said as Ileft. "I’ll talk to my boss, you know Fredrik, the owner, maybe he’ll buy some of those candla for the tables or something from you. Those tables there could use some spicin’ up.” He told me that and laughed. I told him that would be good, but I had to go. So I went home. I was thinking it’d be good to have some more money again, but I really didn’t like the idea of that guy coming over here. I know Fredrik from before he hired Sinclair. He used to bartend. But I don’t know him as good as Sinclair. I hadn’t talked to him in years. I was going to eat something, but I wasn’t hungry once I got home. I was think— ing of Fredrik coming over. Ididn’t like the idea. Every month the pastor from the church down the street comes to get candles. That doesn’t bother me. He pays me, but he’s not rich like Fredrik I don’t think the pastor even notices that this is such a small place. It’s just this room, and Idon’t get around to dusting often, and the radiator clunls. The pastor down’t ask me questions about my wax statues either, or my paints and tools 68 Show less
The intuitive soul loving and hating the relationship She fights with other deities teaching them a lesson We watch these creatures brawl Oh yes we do Pounce. Pounce. Pounce. Please speak up for we cannot hear She screams answers into the childrens’ forgotten dreams Wayward woman stretching her... Show moreThe intuitive soul loving and hating the relationship She fights with other deities teaching them a lesson We watch these creatures brawl Oh yes we do Pounce. Pounce. Pounce. Please speak up for we cannot hear She screams answers into the childrens’ forgotten dreams Wayward woman stretching her limbs to touch bodies from the past her porcelain forehead her protruding eyes jolting out artifacts from previous lives Please approve and if not death despising the world She hides in a crevice to small for lards An indecisive soul returns for more abuse butfinds a red velvet chair to sink in absorbing the warmth that submerses her under waves of passionate folds 57 Show less
creating small wet stains on the white contrast of the sheet Small wet stains of human blood Red; Red the stain on the sheet the stain of blood on the whiteness of the sheet between her parted legs; two dark bridges high above the white and the blood The black angel swept Swept the sweat off her... Show morecreating small wet stains on the white contrast of the sheet Small wet stains of human blood Red; Red the stain on the sheet the stain of blood on the whiteness of the sheet between her parted legs; two dark bridges high above the white and the blood The black angel swept Swept the sweat off her forehead; the bloody stains off the streets with helpful compassion The black angel wept Oooohhhh.... The face exploded in pain; the mouth wide open the eyes dark holes holes in the dark soil pain despair Oooohhhh. ... Pain Pain then relief The black angel received the little dark body helped out ofits cave climbing down the ladder descending the stairs into the white world; darkness defeated? A slam a cry the cry ofa little human as if foreseeing the evil the despair the life in the big segregated city 37 Show less
the baby and that. We didn’t talk in the office anymore. Bette never said anything Maybe she never knew. But she still went away that year. I signed the paper and left. I forgot to take the check though, so I went back to get it. The woman there seemed even madder. I was thinking of Kasia, and... Show morethe baby and that. We didn’t talk in the office anymore. Bette never said anything Maybe she never knew. But she still went away that year. I signed the paper and left. I forgot to take the check though, so I went back to get it. The woman there seemed even madder. I was thinking of Kasia, and wondering where and how the baby was. He’s grown up by now, but I never heard much about him or Bette, even before Bette died. I just have a baby picture with Bette holding him. I was going to dig that picture up when I got home. But I didn’t. I got the check and cashed it at a different office. I got back on the E and was going to buy coffee. On the bus I was thinking about Fredrik again. I hadn’t made coffee in a long time, and was trying to remember what Bette had told me the secret to good coffee is. I wondered if he would just buy candles. I have the right colors to match the bar. But I didn’t want him to ask about the statua. I was thinking I could sit down, drink coffee and talk about the price of candles, no problem. If the coffee was any good. Maybe I could tell him how I make them if he asked. I just melt, cut and dip wax until they’re done. I could show him the tubs and electric heater I use to melt the wax. Even that seemed embarrassing though. It seems like there is more to it than that, but I forget what it is. If I can live the rest of my life without being embarrassed, then that is what I’m going to do. I’d give up whatever I needed to. But then I was thinking, I wouldn’t give up Louise. I wanted her to stay intact. In my room. I thought she would be the best thing. When I finished her back, it was like there was another person in my room, a presence. Not like the Holy Spirit, but better. I went to Nelson’s to buy the coffee. I found it in the back and went to pay. "I didn’t know you drink coffee," Nelson said to me. I told him that I usually don’t, that it hurts my stomach. Then he said "On credit?” I didn’t think he would ask that. I was a little bit shocked for a second. I told him I got the government check and paid for the coffee. He said “Good for you, good for you.” That made me real nervous about being there. I paid for the coffee and left. I was glad I wouldn’t have to go out like that again for a while. I got the same kind of coffee that Bette used to. She’d do the grocery shopping back then, and she always bought good things. I put the coffee in the refrigerator when I got home. Bette told me that kept it fresh. Louise was looking much better with her hair dried. Just because she had hairI felt good, even though I’d known how she would look for a long time. I thought of her hair moving again, like when the murderer chases her, and thought I should work on her face. I had planned this part for a long time. I knew it would be hard to get the red on her lips and against her white cheels with out her looking too made-up. But I had planned and knew I could do it. I got her lips done that night. They stuck out. They were all alone. The only color on the blank wax face was her lips. They looked too red, and the red made the rest of the face seem flat. That made me scared and discouraged, so I went to bed. I thought the lips would be better once she had all of her face when I was finally in bed. I slept well then. I woke up on the day Fredrik was coming, but I didn’t remember right away. I had dreams about Louise drinking and gambling on the cabaret boat and running away from the killer with the knife. I was excited to finish her. I worked fast, but did a good job. All that was left was one eye when I remembered Fredrik was coming. I put my 71 Show less
ter. When I asked her about coming back to stay, she replied, "Holly Hobby, take care. I love you, and I will see you when I see you.” I was so sad about leaving, I cried myself to sleep and woke up five hours later at home. When I think back on that time now, I guess I somehow knew the woman in... Show moreter. When I asked her about coming back to stay, she replied, "Holly Hobby, take care. I love you, and I will see you when I see you.” I was so sad about leaving, I cried myself to sleep and woke up five hours later at home. When I think back on that time now, I guess I somehow knew the woman in my vision was my Aunt. I guess I knew somehow that my vision meant that would be the last time I would see her alive. The day we put her into the ground was a warm, sunny day. I knew that was what her life was like. When I feel sad and miss her, I think of that warm January day and my heart feels glad that I was a part of her life. I love you, Angel-Mom In memory of Angel May Earth May 1921-January 1987 41 Show less
ripped the infant from her arms, then strode back to the motel room, Adrien was stunned. She couldn’t believe he would use her baby against her. When she went back inside, he was softly playing with the child. “I’m doing this for your own good,” he told her. Then he turned, "1 love you, Adrien.... Show moreripped the infant from her arms, then strode back to the motel room, Adrien was stunned. She couldn’t believe he would use her baby against her. When she went back inside, he was softly playing with the child. “I’m doing this for your own good,” he told her. Then he turned, "1 love you, Adrien. You have to trust me.” Adrien wanted to trust him, and she wanted her son, but she didn’t want to have to choose. She resolved to cling to his love for her, to force herself to believe it was truly for the best. Three years was a long time to hold on to such thin threads. With all the pain, betrayal and violence, the thread had broken often and was re—knotted with fear. Now she feared that if she left he’d try to kill her, or worse, kill Christopher. Adrien sat in the cold, hard chair, knees tucked to her chest, and shivered. At least it was over for tonight, she thought. He’s got it out of his system. She was wrong. Suddenly, Merle sprang out of bed, grabbed the gun he kept hidden under his pillow and jammed it against her already throbbing head, pinning her to the wall. "You want to leave, don’t you?” he demanded. "No, Merle, I love you‘ I’ll never leave you.” "No, that’ s not it, you’re trying to hurt me—not bringing me my codeine, feeding me shit, and slumming around all day with pimps and hookers. That’s it, isn’t it?” "No Merle, I swear.” "Look at me.” The cold steel at her temple pressed in harder. Forcing Adrien’s face around, she became terrified. The look in his eyes was cold and devastating—er he was possessed by a demon. In that moment, Adrien knew she faced the insane—the truly insane. She knew he would kill her. He did not love or hate her. He was just crazy. "I’m going to kill you,” he said. "I know.” Adrien began praying and waiting for it to happen. Then she thought of Christo- pher, alone with Merle. "Beg me to save your life!” he yelled. "Please Merle, don’t kill me. Let me love you. Let me take care of you." "You call this taking care of me?” he looked around the room. "I’ll do better,” Adrien promised. "Tomorrow I’ll do better.” "Liar." "Please, Merle, please.” For an instant, time was frozen; his finger poised on the trigger, wanting to shoot, the hollow look in his eyes, burning into her memory; the fear and realization that in seconds, she would be dead. Adrien was so prepared for the shock to come, she couldn’t understand why he pulled back "Okay," he said. "Pack up your things and go.” This was another game. Adrien knew how to play. If she did what he said, she’d be dead for sure. "No, I don’t want to go. I want to stay with you.” 20 Show less
‘ .-:C.O:-.‘z-.-:-.-:-.-:-.-‘:-.-‘ O Q 0 6 Q Q 6 Q 9 O C Q 6 9 Q h 9 6 Q" Blues Cathy Dalglish Woman Slides to the rim Of the moon Like blues To the edge of a trumpet. She has no eyes To vail the incense Of her gaze. And yet she stares. She has no mouth To ease the twilight Of her voice. And yet... Show more‘ .-:C.O:-.‘z-.-:-.-:-.-:-.-‘:-.-‘ O Q 0 6 Q Q 6 Q 9 O C Q 6 9 Q h 9 6 Q" Blues Cathy Dalglish Woman Slides to the rim Of the moon Like blues To the edge of a trumpet. She has no eyes To vail the incense Of her gaze. And yet she stares. She has no mouth To ease the twilight Of her voice. And yet she sings. She has no mute To dampen the belly Of her prayers. And still her words are wet. 79 Q Q\so‘.o O’Of O 0-. , ’-.-:-oo:-.-:cogzo 9 Show less
She waited a long time because in the interim, her mind was playing a trick on her, where she could see him coming, but wasn’t in her body. Instead, she was above it and he covered the same ground over and over again, like instant replay. Through all this, she waited. As expected, Merle moved... Show moreShe waited a long time because in the interim, her mind was playing a trick on her, where she could see him coming, but wasn’t in her body. Instead, she was above it and he covered the same ground over and over again, like instant replay. Through all this, she waited. As expected, Merle moved right to her, took a swing at her jaw and sent he to the ground. He picked her up and swung again. The sting was especially sharp because her face was so cold. When Adrien retumed home, both Merle and the lady who owned the house chastized her for trying to run away. The German woman was appalled that she would leave her child behind. In private, Merle told her never to try it again. “I can read your mind, you know,” he said. "That’s how I knew you were leaving. You have a wicked mind.” The memory made Adrien panic in the alley and again in the apartment as Merle taunted her. She tried to force her mind blank so he wouldn’t know what she was thinkin . g’Are you listening to me?" his anger brought Adrien back to the moment. After the dishes were washed, Adrien curled up, like a lost child, in the only chair in the room. She felt relieved by Merle’s silence as he watched TV. She tucked her knees in tighter to her chin as Merle got up to go to the bathroom. But when he came out, he did not return to the bed. Instead, he stood in front of Adrien, seething with a look of hatred. "N ow you’re gonna find out what it’s like for me to be without codeine,” he said. He gripped her chin and pulled Adrien’s face inches from his. "It’s pain—you under- stand—pain!” Releasing her head, the back of his fist swung into Adrien’s temple. Christopher started screaming hysterically and tried to crawl or. top of her. "Put that kid to bed,” he ordered. Adrien’s hands shook as she snuggled the child into his crib. Immediately, he crouched into a fetal position, closed his eyes, and began sucking on his bottle. Adrien wished she could lie down next to him, but resignedly pulled the blanket over the top of the crib and left the kitchen. Terrified, Adrien faced Merle and received another blow that sent her to the floor. She tried to crawl into the bathroom, but he chased her, kicking with booted feet. One foot caught her in the eye and she blacked out. When she came to, she was still being beaten, but she had started separating from her body, like she had done in Germany. She saw herself putting her arms over her head to defend against the blows as he continued kicking her legs and stomach, but Adrien remained distant. Finally, he stopped. As Merle left the crumpled heap of her body on the floor, Adrien retumed to her senses. Every movement produced stabbing pains. She looked in the bathroom mirror to see the damage. There was blood flowing from her forehead and the bruises and swelling were already starting to show. Waves of nausea gripped her as she tried to clean up. At last, she returned to her place in the chair, hoping Merle would fall asleep. Silently, Adrien blamed herself. It was the only safe thing to do. She blamed herself for not trying harder, for not doing more, for not providing him with a better life. 18 Show less
An Orwellian Tragedy Chad Pierro A man walks ahead of the ardent Wind Blowing through this misplaced Contradiction And the Crosses in the graveyard The crosses in the Shopping mall Glow a vacant Light He said, “Have you seen the Ravens dancing Through the Bitter fields? ” The rain Bleeds down the... Show moreAn Orwellian Tragedy Chad Pierro A man walks ahead of the ardent Wind Blowing through this misplaced Contradiction And the Crosses in the graveyard The crosses in the Shopping mall Glow a vacant Light He said, “Have you seen the Ravens dancing Through the Bitter fields? ” The rain Bleeds down the reluctant sprouts Necklaces grope across Diamond reality Where the Blinds cultivate and shelter She said, "Where is the fragrant Promise you gave me? The package Covered in the plain brown Wrapping?" Up and down across Dictation Raped within and Thrown without The hollow Conversation mirrors Shadowed Reflection and broken Glass Faces blurred and Dismissed In the empty photo Album Compiled by Warning premonitions Venus watches Floating and crying Bracing for Unknown destructions Never been Lied to but inside The Voices screaming quietly Nobody bothers to Question or wonder He said, "The water splits in too many places To have any Real source” The intangible Enemies bang on splintered Panels cracking the Fragments already Torn by those who Came before Submission Yields and runs away Hiding behind clear Window panes 60 Show less
7. Disposable needles; plastic forks, spoons, and knives The doctor is empathetic but he wears rubber gloves. The only single room on the floor; the hospital is not that fall. A walking skeleton with dirty hair in a blue- striped robe. 8. An apparition walking the hallways to go outside for a... Show more7. Disposable needles; plastic forks, spoons, and knives The doctor is empathetic but he wears rubber gloves. The only single room on the floor; the hospital is not that fall. A walking skeleton with dirty hair in a blue- striped robe. 8. An apparition walking the hallways to go outside for a cigarette. A healthless lover of art and beauty; a poet. An inevitable end. Stop. 10 Show less
Hats and Hubcaps Renee DeLong The dark Iewish boys with black spot hats squirt out of the Delta 88 with 88 rusted burn holes (made by a huge cigar) and afender that trails like a tired dog’s tail. 3 o’clock mischief brews in the smallest set of eyes (the set that sat in themiddleofthebackseat... Show moreHats and Hubcaps Renee DeLong The dark Iewish boys with black spot hats squirt out of the Delta 88 with 88 rusted burn holes (made by a huge cigar) and afender that trails like a tired dog’s tail. 3 o’clock mischief brews in the smallest set of eyes (the set that sat in themiddleofthebackseat where Delta sags a bit) His taunts sing out over the steaming playground (that smells like burning rubber) as he chases his brothers with one hand over his brightly stitched noggin. Delta sits back on her arthritic haunches, hangs onto her last orange-brown habcap, and rests. 80 Show less
Resenting the chores he felt thrust upon him, The animals he had hoped to leave behind. He carried the stench inside him With her anger, festering and absessing. Eight weeks of pain ended—less two hundred pounds, The strength to stand and the will to eat, The ability to sleep—with a broken pelvis... Show moreResenting the chores he felt thrust upon him, The animals he had hoped to leave behind. He carried the stench inside him With her anger, festering and absessing. Eight weeks of pain ended—less two hundred pounds, The strength to stand and the will to eat, The ability to sleep—with a broken pelvis, Brittle bones no longer able to withstand The stress of dropping heavily to the ground. She cried for her fifteen-year friend, She continued to cry when she remembered, And blamed both husband and horse For asking to be delivered. He tendered his debt in pain For his moments of inattention. They hardly dared speak of that old horse For fear that they would smell infection again. Years later their dog would still remember. His eyes widened, his ears pricked at the sound Of the familiar name, a playmate almost, Whom he had chased across the pasture, Prodded around the hot-walker, Castigated with nips at his heels For refusing to jump his fences. Only the dog wanted to play again. 84 Show less
“How about I stop over for a few minutes and see what you have to offer? Then I’ll see how much I can pay and let you know at the end of the week” I went home. Now that I knew that he’d come over, I was thinking more about him asking me questions, like at the bar. Asking me about the statues. I... Show more“How about I stop over for a few minutes and see what you have to offer? Then I’ll see how much I can pay and let you know at the end of the week” I went home. Now that I knew that he’d come over, I was thinking more about him asking me questions, like at the bar. Asking me about the statues. I thought about putting all of them on the shelves. That would make them less noticeable. Right now they are on the table, shelves, window sill and the floor. They won’t fit on the shelves though. I was sitting at the table looking at my picture of Louise. I was going to paint her hair. Frediik wasn’t coming for two days anyhow. I worried about her bangs. It’s hard to take something from a flat picture and put it on a statue. The picture is only in black and white, too. But I closed my eyes and thought about her walking. I thought about how she’d turn her head really fast when she thought the murderer was following her, and the way her hair would lift up and spin and catch up to her head. It’s good for me to think about my statues moving. With Louise’s hair being so short and fine, unless I took the time to think, I’d think it never moved at all. She’s much better because I thought about her walking. I though about pulling out the boxes of candls from under the table. To see what I had. I had the candles the pastor would get at the end of the month already done. I wondered if it would be OK. to show those to Fredrik I had already made them for the church, though. I wondered if it was OK to use them for something else, I just took one, a plain, big one. Icut out a pattern and dyed the bar’s name on that candle. I figured that would be good. Then I was working on Louise’s hair. You have to be slow and careful when you’re working on a woman. It’s harder than a horse. You have to get the details right or you spoil everything. But it was quiet and I did a good job. I worked hard for four hours, not letting things like candls bother me, and giving my full atten— tion to Louise. Then her hair was done. It looked just like the picture, but more real because of the shape. It was more lifelike. I couldn’t work anymore because the paint had to dry and I was tired. I was falling asleep and thinking that if Fredrik came over I should have some coffee. I hadn’t had coffee here in a long time. He was coming the next day after tomorrow. I woke up still thinking about coffee. I thought I better go get some. I didn’t have enough money for that, so I thought I’d take the E bus to the government office to get the check. It had been waiting there a couple of weeks. I was waiting to get it because Nelson would give me credit, so I didn’t need it yet. I was going to wait until the pastor bought the candles and I ran out of wax or paint. But coffee is a luxury. Nelson wouldn’t be so sympathetic to someone pampering himself with coffee. I went to get the check, and I had to wait It was stuck back in a file. I think the woman there was mad that I didn’t pick it up on time. I was a bookkeeper for two years. I worked in an office like that one, for Ander- son, Anderson and Rendstrom. The woman at the government office went to the back. She reminded me of Kasia, who was the secretary where I was the bookkeeper. She made me think about Kasia and me sneaking into the back at the office. It seemed like Kasia and me were in love, but I always felt like Bette was mad at me when I came home. Bette and I had only been married one year, and the baby was just born then. The woman came out of the back with my check "Here, sign this paper," she said. She wasn’t as happy or pretty as Kasia. I had to tell her we had to stop, Bette and 70 Show less