And Our Faces, My Heart, Brief As Photos
What reconciles me to my own death more than anything else is the image of a place: a place where your bones and mine are buried, thrown, uncovered, together. They are strewn there pell-mell. One of your ribs leans against my skull. A metacarpal of my left hand lies...
All Fours
“Are all the rooms here this nice?” Cassie, fifty-three, only had a second while her daughter was at ceramics. “No, I had it redecorated. It’s part of a . . . never mind.” The room wasn’t the point. I described my situation, Audra, the fork, the...
James
I walked outside and over to the big fire, where the men were sitting. I was greeted and then I sat. We talked some about what happened to a runaway over at another farm. “Yeah, they beat him real good,” Doris said. Doris was a man, but that didn’t seem to matter to...
JR
— Get it? Art? You get it where you get anything you buy it, listen Gibbs don’t try to tell me in this day and age there isn’t enough around for everybody great art, pictures music books who’s heard all the great music there is, you? You read all the great books there...