Jane Adair: Memento Mori
i Some things are best unseen. The crippled buck in the avenue. Turn away. Turn away from X-rays. From the vial of your own drawn blood, from aphids that filigree … Continue reading
March 14, 2016 · 1 Comment
Jane Adair: Coda to a Marriage
This room with its complaining floorboards, rushing spigots, soft latch of doors, the blackness of dawn before dawn with its sharps and flats, a discordant jay’s first recitative of the … Continue reading
February 23, 2016 · 12 Comments
Jane Adair: Broken Spring
I’m doing my best to clip him in the jaw, to knock him flat, but each punch checks, softens, the instant before impact. He’d changed his mind – like that … Continue reading
February 15, 2016 · 3 Comments
Jane Adair: Wishbone
For my own good mother cracks me on the face, sends me into the meaty arms of my stepfather— the one who usually says Stop— but today returns me with … Continue reading
January 25, 2016 · 5 Comments
