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Tag Archives: A. E. Clark
I can explain that one night my mother said, I’m Jesus’ wife. I can explain that one night, when some guy pulled a gun, my father grabbed him by the throat. It’s the only version I get to keep, but … Continue reading
I’ll make it up. I’ll have to imagine the you-before-you-died, who wrote letters that used my full name, which let me take up more space than I know how to do alone. You taught me that there’s no balm. I … Continue reading
Look for groundskin axised with canted stitches on sleepless nights. Sliver at the abdomen until your clavicle splits so the thawlight (that stranger) can touch more, can slide through the cracked bone, like a needle slipping through that floor crack … Continue reading
Fishwife or fish, the net had to fail someone. Recent work by A. E. Clark has appeared or is forthcoming in Mid-American Review, Rust + Moth, Menacing Hedge, and Witness. Her chapbook Addresses Home is forthcoming from Finishing Line Press … Continue reading