I’ll instead focus on what it was about Szymborska’s style that appealed to me. It’s okay if you don’t ... know who I’m talking about. First, let’s get her name pronunciation down: It is vees-WAH-vah. As the ... always drew me to her poetry was its deep and quiet meditative quality, which was often injected with ...
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Summer 2002
of events after that, how long it was before-well, you know. How many times you and I actually spoke ... would probably know better than I. (That is, if you weren't dead, but if that were the case, it ... wouldn't be the last thing in your life, would it?) The exact course of events is fuzzy now. I do know that ...
"You know what," she said. "I don't care. It can all go to hell." ... days when country houses weren't so far from the city. We had a house there, my wife and l. It ... Page 58 from Issue 99 TRIQUARTERLY of bite marks on her shoulder, darkening into bruises. ...
Page 236 from Issue 99 TRIQUARTERLY then catch up on my correspondence. Maybe I could find ... noticed a smoker's ulcer in my throat, a Camel burn that felt like a shiny aluminum shield. It ... rinse that was hell on the gut. It got my head moving when there was nothing, nothing but the walls, or ...
something of your own. How does this function in writing? It functions for me in a very interesting way. ... fifteen years and meditate upon it and in thirty seconds they'd sit and with pen and ink and just ... that beat is and where there's the freedom to say something on your own. Sure, learn your ...
Winter 2004
Page 80 from Issue 118 Kimiko Hahn Cyanopsitta Spixi i All the skins left of the cobalt-blue macaw ... species. In the wilds that can happen to the point of extinction I know myself. 80 Issue 118 page ... evidence a death in captivity: its history usurped by farmers and trappers among the trees of inland ...
Page 124 from Issue 42 normally; fall trees lose their leaves as everywhere they do; and my mother ... opens the oven door to warm the kitchen in the morn ing. My father loved to paint bathrooms; he loved, ... especially, to do trim: fine black lines around the panels of the doors, lemon yellow baseboards, light blue ...
turned blue from lack of oxygen. All my fellow drivers had enlarged hearts or collapsed lungs after ... Tibetans. We know how to herd yaks and grow barley, but when it comes to making money, nobody can beat the ... know how to read or write, like me. And my son-my three-year-old boy, I hope he grows up fast and ...
out, into a tremendous chrome October, the sun a hom of silver-blue embroidery. It was hot. I felt like ... a speed-metal sound track. I gave him my cookies right before I left, knowing that he got off on the sugar. The ... Page 165 from Issue 99 TRIQUARTERLY the doorjamb. I was ready for the yard. Grissom and I stepped ...
this? But I liked it. Conrad never liked bright Mexican things like this. It was strange to be in my ... what to do, what to say in this situation. They didn't know if I loved my husband, felt guilty ... violets and yellows and batiks. Someone took my hand. It was Ma's boyfriend, the Hidalgo I had ...
