My Great-Grandmother’s House, by Madalena Daleziou
I My great-grandmother’s house didn’t diewhen she left. They took away her onlyring, the moldy zines, the chairs andcoffee tables […]
I My great-grandmother’s house didn’t diewhen she left. They took away her onlyring, the moldy zines, the chairs andcoffee tables […]
the ghost screams twenty-three minutes before your alarmmakes the towels musty dampall the damn timeshe shatters your favorite mugand hides
take one moment, finely choppedsautée with onion, garlic, an anchovy if you eat fishprepare some bread and butterlet it rest
Apollo is stalking again this summer,flaunting his meaty thighs, letting flyhis arrows. Kings summon oracles,ask: Who is the abomination?Whom
When the fire dies the city hits me like the Dow Jones. I write, I talk, I do. The hedge
Ebbing, water swivels into the groves of mother earth’s spinecollidingcrackingcrashing buoys silently spectatewadingbouncingbobbingsinking i do not feel princess-like wearing this
For a little while. I have appointments at 2. Can we play parallax, the event horizon, asymptote? The ones where
i. Who sees the black sakura in the courtyard, the fruit that weeps on the branch, a tender flesh staining
Through his telescope the professor searches, his withered hands clasped as in prayer. When young, his Lover was a girl
I did not hunger for spawn of my own. Had I not seen enough women with regrets, deep as the