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Deathexpand_moreThe angel lay in his body effervescent as a flake of alabaster.
A homecoming, she says, as if you hadn’t been back in decades.
No fields of gold. No ripe. One hill, no wave, no roll. I am billboards.
Not all his children love themselves. Look at little Adrienne.
In that world I was a fish too eager to enter the nets; here, I’m a river.
The coverage of the state funeral, black horse bearing an empty saddle.
The air has grown inside me. It’s become a sanctuary.
Rebecca Lehmann
I wore the rose pants for weeks without telling anyone.
My first true love was Underwood, my mother’s typewriter.
The world seemed newly made and filled with a frightening silence.
The portal light, on your face, now, a rose light on a sinking freighter.
A boy knew he wouldn’t see his mother’s face as he rose from the mat.
Life is a dream, he thought. Something she knew and I didn’t.
The sense all along has been that there’s some madness in her.
Tanya jokes that she comes to the East Coast now only for funerals.
I tried to cheer my brother up by reminding him all clowns die too.
Chase Twichell
Some types of pain are just too deep to touch, are better left alone.
“You mean to fall in love with your wife while I’m gone,” she said.
The boy had never before seen his father hopeless. He was afraid.
If Vann kisses her, a mist will rise in her brain. A promise of oblivion.
Dogs electrocuted, set on fire. What buys the right to drown a dog?
Her mother is a locked door with another door behind it.
I was only five when Dad told me I had died. “You drowned,” he said.
All my life I wondered what it is to vanish like a ring of smoke.
If only to hold on by opening lord give me this one eighth day
Rain falls steadily, rattling down drainpipes and gurgling into gutters.
His eyes always astonish her. Iridescent blue, flecked with black. Her husband was gone, two years later than she should’ve thrown him out.
The guy from the funeral home can’t get the gurney into the house.
