Wiscasset, Maine
by Tina Barry
Neighbors admire the garden
But never offer to help with the weeding or watering. Her lover's wife stole a rosebush. Everyone wants to pick the iris, but not the foxgloves. She bought a dog with short legs to make her own legs look longer.
Their motel room smells damp with the AC switched on
One of those shanties on the water where people wear lobster bibs and scratch bug bites. She can no longer recall where they met or why she married him. Her toenails glow red underwater.
She carries a giant stuffed bear like a baby
A line of dark hair travels from the shirtless carny's navel to his waistband. She smells nothing but funnel cake.
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Author's Note
The poem is the latest issue of Elimae, along with Fictionauters Robert Vaughn, James Claffey, Meg Tuite and others. Thank you, Cooper Renner!
Other stories by Tina Barry
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poised, moving stuff. *
Good work, Tina. Perfectly spare and elegant.
Love this, Tina. Especially the carny smelling like funnel cake. Desolate and gorgeous. Peace *
Excellent use of subtle implications, Tina, especially this line, "She carries a giant stuffed bear like a baby." It works so well on many different levels. Good work.*
God this is great. Almost every sentence a gem. great balance. Lovely work.
thanks, James, Gary, Linda, JP, and Steven, for reading, for the kind comments, and the stars! Much appreciated.
Oh yes. Good writing in a small space, Tina. *
I like everything about this!
*
Thanks, Sam and Bill. I'm flattered that you read and gave "Wiscasset,..." a star.
What awesome transitions! *Love it.
Why thank you, Jen. I appreciate the comment and the star!
Tina, I am a huge fan! My goodness, this is just wonderful on all levels. Bravo!
Fave.
Thank you, Robert. Such sweet words to start my morning.