SUBJECT: LG French Door refrigerator
MODEL: LFC21776ST
FEATURES: Stainless Steel finish, LED interior light, IcePlus ice maker, open-door alarm
CONSUMER-BASED DESIRE: Attractive, decor-consistent, counter-depth refrigerator with no on-door functions (fussy and unnecessary)
There Are Things We Are Not Meant to See
Twelve of them stood lit in white, the rest in pale green, as if for a film set, all of them dressed in Old West clothes, the boys in starched shirts, each girl in a robe-length dress, and the old ones, too: men in wide black belts, their wives (shoes like black loaves, black bows in their hair).
My nubile niece, Cassandra, is going clubbing with her puppyish pal Miranda. They are spending the weekend at my house because they live over in the Valley and they will be out late. I am so conveniently located. They brought me a spray of freesias, a string of plastic tiki lights, and a pound of ham to say thanks.
Before they go out, I warn them, “Don’t you two come home shit-faced. I won’t be surprised if the vice squad raids that place.“
Watering
What about a morning dove thinks it’s safe to perch in plain sight on a power line?
They’ve stuffed their nest into an eave on our front porch, but doves abandon ship when threatened so the two of us open and shut the door quietly. New eggs take two weeks to hatch. Five batches will be laid this season.
Our marriage is in a fair state.
Notes from Buffalo: On Charity & Justice
There’s a story that community organizers like to tell, about babies in rivers. Like that famous joke, “The Aristocrats,” there are many versions of the story. Here’s mine.
A church picnic is interrupted by a woman’s piercing scream, “A baby! There’s a baby floating in the river!” A teenage girl runs to the river. Taking off her sneakers, she plunges into the murky water. The picnickers hold their breath and pray. Finally the girl’s head appears above water, and then the baby is seen, held aloft in the arms of the heroic rescuer. From shore, a shout of praise.
The Fall 2013 issue of NWW is up with terrific new work from Andy Plattner, Eric Pankey, Joe David Bellamy, Rose Hunter, Alfred Corn, Richard Mirabella, and others. We will add new work periodically, so keep an eye out for additions to the list. For example, Quincy Lehr’s wonderfully abundant poem, “The Dark Lord of the Tiki Bar.”
Advent: A Collect
Break-in and battery two weeks before the season’s grand hallelujah: broken glass from a shattered window wreathed her body, found below in the tub. Did the pills let her creep there, as if searching for a manger, a word ringing with
On March 7, 1965, the Sheriff of Dallas County, Alabama threw one of the most famous punches in American history, on the steps of the courthouse in Selma. The man that Sheriff Jim Clark punched in the face, C.T.Vivian, was named yesterday as a recipient of the Presidential Medal of Freedom.
Notes on Don Quixote, Volume OneThis morning a small possum was rescued by my wife from a swimming pool. He was a sad, wet, cold-looking creature with large, glossy eyes that were solid black. Who knows how he had wound up in the pool, but my wife discovered him on the top rung of the ladder, waiting I guess for someone to come and offer him
Before you begin, you must divest yourself of sentimental memories of your grand opening. The parking lot was full, cars circling, spilling out onto the surrounding streets. The customers waited on the sidewalk for hours, sprawled on folding chairs, bundled in blankets, gulping big gulps. They nearly crushed one another when the doors first slid open.
1983, Houston, Texas. October. According to the Colonial Americans, this was the Hunter’s moon. Trip found a big swath of velvet tucked away in Judy’s closet. It was midnight blue. “This is what the guy meant when he sang about blue velvet,” Trip told Nora. They cut stars from cardboard and wrapped them in tinfoil, attaching them to the cloth, and sang By the Light of the Silvery Moon as he cut the crescent moon.
Lake ResortAlmost fifteen years ago, Lane bought a lake resort with her sister, Elsa. It was a wild thing to do. It was the sort of thing you did when the world was blaring around you, when everything seemed too real and impossible anyway and danger was familiar enough that you were tired of being afraid of it. Maybe some people would do drugs or cut off all their hair or go out dancing and bring home a stranger. Lane took out an enormous loan and bought a row of housekeeping cottages on 400 feet of lakeshore.
When you shiver in heels, there is always the chance that you will fall in a hurry. I would like to learn the trick to not turning to confetti when dressed up. Until that time, which will no doubt be never, I will stick with these extremely unprovocative crepe-soled shoes designed to prevent romantic encounters; they work, essentially, like helmets for the entire body (and soul, whatever that is). My mother did not avoid rock and roll, or heels, or the practice of unfolding her body (and maybe even her soul) in a flash, even when she had young children, even when she had old children.
The goldfinch needs fire,
the cold slip of her flicks past
as soundless as a thought
lost to a question. But you,
you need water.
I had lived all my life in the city but never paid much attention to the river. I always thought Coovum was the Tamil word for sewer, until I met him. The fetid, repulsive stench was all that came to my mind at the mention of the river. But, his face lit up every time he spoke about the Coovum river; how it carved its way through the crammed city and its four million people. He was new to the city. New-age yuppie would insult him, he had old class and new money.