Philip Terman: Two Poems
our daughter
rubbing softly and deeply,
her knowing hands breathing
into the pain their love
Fred Everett Maus: Growing Up
Until I left for college, I lived in the same home with my mom and dad. The house was built in 1924. My grandfather was the first owner.
Jim Daniels: Garbage Picking in the Nice Neighborhoods
On Wednesday nights, my brothers and I sometimes hiked a mile or so north further from Detroit, into the stretched world of Bigger—bigger lawns, cars, houses. Some neighborhoods even had … Continue reading
Lawrence Ferlinghetti: I Genitori Perduti
Souls transmigrated maybe
from Hudson’s shrouded shores
across all the silent years—
Which one’s my maybe mafioso father
Larry Levis: Family Romance
Abstaining clouds that passed, & kept
Their own counsel, we
Were different, we kept our own counsel.
Daniel Lawless: Family Photographs: My Brother, Solar Eclipse, 1965
At three o’clock to feel yourself disappear inside yourself —
To cast no shadow.
Matthew J. Parker: One of Those Years
They had found a body in Phoenix, she said, and the cops were convinced it was John. But the body had no tattoos, and my mom had convinced herself that John, like my younger brother Mark and I, had at least one tattoo. I, however, knew better, and told her so.
Tony Gloeggler: Working Class Heroes
My father opened the trunk,
tossed me my glove with a worn
hardball tucked in its pocket, eased
into a catcher’s crouch as I paced
60 feet away.
Video: Durango
Durango follows Aaron and TJ through aimless days spent diving from cliffs, lighting fireworks and chatting about girls, as the siblings’ uncertain future lingers in the background.
