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The gates going up
and down like
gigantic windshield wipers
to let the existent
boxcars
pass. We
went across these real
bumpy railroad tracks into
a town so
small there
wasn’t enough room
for the car
so we got out and went ahea
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25284
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Dad was not dead, but Mom decided to give him a funeral anyway. “He's dead to us,” she said. We were sitting in the back yard at the ragged end of the day, watching the darkening sky toss up handfuls of stars. Mom shook her…
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92200
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The county sent two crews, one to get Mr. Meyers, the old shut-in, tall and affable, but quiet and bent, like a crooked coat rack with a porkpie atop, the other for his dog, an english setter whom he shadowed like a familiar. I say he was the familiar and
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8166
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In fits of humor he’d send postcards to friends around the country emblazoned with the script, “From the desk of the Bird Mahony,” which, in truth, was a scarred mahogany bar table with unsteady legs.
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