true crime
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I wasn’t sorry when Evi left home. I mean I was ,but I wasn’t going to let her know it. I don’t remember Mama; she went away with baby Ferenc after the spring rains. But Evi left school to care for Papa and me. She was a little mother. Papa was angry at first. He
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Ode to a feckless phone without mercyIf only I could I’d fling your heftO, device of delight shining brightlyDragging my joy to its lowest depth When your role was to make me happyInstead you’ve rendered my plans bereftPixelated frozen true crime documentaryNo podcasts, no paranormal audiobooks, no nothing left Yet a skein of wool has
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Electric air bristles with revulsionQuiet enough for a dropped pinThe world has outgrown sideshowsAt least our consciences like to pretend Truth be told we’re not very far from the freakshows we’ve only added a markup language spinPenny Dreadfuls have morphed into podcastsThat teach us it’s never a mannequin Late of Mary Lynch, an unassuming volume
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How much we love each otherAn anniversary surprisePictured RocksYour gift to me despite your fear of heightsLet me take your photoBack up you sayTake it all in fromFirst date to first grand babyThat woman just one of manyThat woman you talk to late into the nights she is secondsOur love is decadesCool sandstone heavyNo one
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Tell me bout the childrenAre the girls okayLet little Lucy know I would sew her Spring Fling gown if I couldI wanted torosebud pink with Swiss dotsSpaghetti strapsNo don’t bring them hereI want them to remember Meemaw like I wasLike I’m supposed to beDon’t ask how I’m doin’ Did Bobby and Jack cover the hayFrom
circular staircase 