Sister

Sister

My sister doesn’t do sad.She tried it on a few times,   different styles, different sizes—   nothing quite fit. Either too loudor too dark, too tight or too baggy, she’d say. But I think it was the silence of sadness   she couldn’t size up. See, she’s a musician and...
1967

1967

It was that summer19 years old     I lived alonefevered with independenceefficiency apartment on Summit Avenuescratch cushions     pull-out couchGoodwill dishes     my boyfriend and Idrank liquor from jelly glasses     poundedthe thin mattress even flatter    ...