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Page 319 from Issue 47 We got up without eating. The rich lady in the comer said to my mother, ... "What a lovely family you've got. Where is your husband?" My mother looked at her, ... who'd known my mother as a young girl in Wexford. They asked her briefly about her family, and she ...
and swerved back. A yellow slice of moon showed over the Spokane Bench. With my fingers I traced out ... the deep, hand-carved initials HB in the rifle stock-my grandfather's initials, carved, ... sitting up close to the porcelain Aladdin, reading the Montana Farmer-Stockman. After my mother left, it ...
handkerchief and missed both stirrups. His head disappeared between my legs and I landed almost running. After ... he'd take his head away from me, tuck it, and sunfish on the way up. The top half of my body would pull ... out of orbit and wait for my hips to follow, go further out as he turned away, and get heavier till ...
their hands with a shiver that fills me with shame. My imagination brought me into this bare dining room ... caress the lady's head, ask to be excused for interfering? I put my notebook in the pocket of my ... jacket. I cast out of my mind all the clues I had for my detective story: the comic book, the lipstick ...
across our lot and maybe a bit beyond it, where 1 swung down from a limb and touched my toes to a garbage ... float through the trees and pass over buildings to my win­ dow. Below me, out there, for many minutes ... sometimes, the be­ fooled would continue calling and pursuing. Yet no one guessed my divinity. No one knew ...
little girl. Her presence is in me indelibly. Her voice talks in my head. Cain't have no ... privacy. Tip in the bathroom wid my own bloody nose. Look in mirror at everything swellin. Lip fat. Nose ... anyway because this is my face hurt. 1 halfway cain't believe. So I'm comfortin myself, ...
Page 159 from Issue 86 She drew my hands to her face and left them there. "I'd ... rather you draw your own conclusions." It was up to me to feel my way across her face. Her hair ... was short and thick. It smelled good when I moved my fingers through it. There was a stiffness there, ...
Fall 1997
me for a photo at maybe seven years old in an off-the-shoulder "Mexican" blouse, my ... hair soft and wavy down along my shoulders, my lips tinted, flower barrettes exposing my brow. ... "A picture of you for your father." I looked like Jane Russell, giving... my father... the ...
my young uncle would come up with some excuses for himself, such as he couldn't wait to get ... situations in life, and I had more than one young aunt. But the one I'll be talking about here is my ... real young aunt. I liked my young uncle very much, and hoped that he would marry many different women; ...
Page 115 from Issue 131 text, my race, class, gender, and sexual orientation confounded my sub­ ... ject position with relation to those around me, such that my conscious­ ness about my identity in ... Epistemology: A Theory in the Flesh In their path breaking anthology, This Bridge Called My Back, Chicana ...

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