faith, I crane my neck to read over his shoulder, and Claude tilts the pamphlet away from me. “Did you ... ’s a girl I’d like to have on my side.” I see her face, tough and intractable. She heard her best friend’s ... transplanted, like the authentic Mexican death mask my brother picked up for pennies in Baja. Next thing I knew, ...
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She was one of those “natural” mothers. She gave birth without drugs, she nursed my brother and me ... in every class. I was honored when he later agreed to be my thesis advisor. He taught me what lines ... implications of the things I wrote and taught me how to read for insensitivity and my occasional young ...
Summer 2002
other than what was on this plate, since you hardly touched it," and she said she was taking ... hadn't seen her since she left, but maybe that was an indication of how absorbed he was in the ... talking about Ovid's Metamorphoses, which she'd taught this semester and he'd ...
discombobulating to start the next. At 170 pages, American Salvage was perhaps an easier choice to read ... a bookshelf. For me it’s my personal campaign: See, here’s a book I read. Try it. Share Tweet ... I clicked on my Kindle and was delighted to see that in seconds I could have an electronic copy of American ...
remember my wife. She was a year behind us. Denise Carelli?” “Sure, very sweet,” she lies. “I didn’t know ... when she was a little girl is the same father she must write about by tomorrow morning. She sits on the ... mine. The brim of his fishing hat casts a shadow over me as he leans down, his face near my shoulder ...
and death. He tried to guess the girl's age. She was not yet twenty, he thought, less than ... girl was guiding him toward a particular destination: she was taking him home with her. He tried to ... might break the spell that some benevolent magician had cast upon him. The girl's brief ...
precious Rimbaud— still not giving it to me—she was happy I could read French well enough to read Rimbaud, ... meant. This was the prelude to lending her copy of Rimbaud to me, what she had to say before getting up ... workshops they were. In one, Strand tore my poem in half, lengthwise, and showed me how much better it was ...
so she could throw it all up so the pants would fit the next day, it always was Anne Sexton & ... cymbals striking, each one in sickly separation the whole show itself coming through the door with me as ... & take a breather, I remember they'd say, while I'd fill up my two palms & ...
She was maybe thirteen. The same age as when I left Iowa. My stepfather knocked me out of bed each ... back, Stepfather held his nose, grabbed my milk pail, locking the door against me. I stole some rags, ... biscuit, a curl of deer fat. Next day she found a rockrose root shaped like a cloud trailing across the ...
Martinez, sounded familiar to me. I asked myself if, by chance, it was mine. I discov ered that yes it was ... Page 187 from Issue 80 explain the precarious status of his nation to Argentines. But his attempt ... him, profound implications. "The paradox," he says, "was that ...
