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Parenting
Sunbeams
July 2010Ancient peoples invented rites of passage in part to break the spell of childhood and move the initiate from the mother’s lap to the lap of the world. To this day, a person must dismantle the spell of childhood or fail to find their place in life.
Pretending
A ten-day camping trip, a blond wig tucked inside a plastic bag, Vincent van Gogh’s Sunflowers
July 2010excerpted from
Dombey And Son
“What is money after all?” said Mr. Dombey, backing his chair a little, that he might the better gaze in sheer amazement at the presumptuous atom that propounded such an inquiry.
June 2010The Mere Mortal
Carla happened to be kneeling outside the poultry enclosure when she heard her daughter Amanda in the milking barn telling the new boyfriend, “My father is a beatnik. He hates life up here. He calls us ‘montagnards.’ He really loves North Beach. And he’s in the right place, too, in North Beach. Because he’s into porn — something I approve of.
May 2010Selected Poems
— from “A Pittsburgh Poem” | Imagine a man in a hat on a street early one morning in autumn. / This is my grandfather on his way to work at the brokerage firm. / He is a treasurer. He takes the bus down from the southern hills. / It is October 28, 1929.
February 2010Dinosaurs
When we arrived in Florida, my in-laws found us at the baggage claim, and it seemed at first that the visit could be a success. They were touchingly nervous, and they’d dressed carefully: Floyd in pressed khakis and Dolores in a coral dress. Her dyed hair escaped from her scarf, and when she leaned close, I could see the fabric was patterned with parrots. She likes birds, I thought. Something to talk about later.
December 2009Georgie’s Big Break
Georgie saw the notice on a listserv online: the upcoming citywide book festival, Lit Expedition, needed volunteers to introduce speakers. Perfect. It would be a perfect way for Georgie to keep her hand in during a long maternity leave.
November 2009Indra’s Net
We mothers meet on the playground, sun-hungry, / kicking at scabs of ice, / shuffling and bumping tired sentences against each other, / all too broken by winter / to say how things really are.
November 2009Personal, political, provocative writing delivered to your doorstep every month—without a single ad.
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