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- Time Out
- April Grief Poem (For My Friends)
- A Mighty Fortress
- The Volume of Silence
- The appreciation of what got lost in time
- On the Porch Steps in Early Morning
- The Downside of My Insistence on Dining Out While in a State of Emotional Volatility
- Why the Phrase “I Miss You” is Too Difficult for Me to Speak
- Aubade for a Lover’s Withdrawal from Polite Society
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- A Mighty Fortress eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2020/01/27/a-m… 1 day ago
Tag Archives: Bob Meszaros
June 1953, the second-floor classroom is motionless in the heat. Miss Johnson balances the long white wooden pole above us. The muscles of her short thick arms are knotted; moisture thickens on her upper lip. She hooks the pole end … Continue reading
April, and the mallards are back. First, the hens; then, the drakes: one by one they drop feet first into our sun-struck leafless pond. Days of flapping wings, of head pumping and endless preening, of grunts and low-toned whistles, of … Continue reading
You never liked them: beautiful but rootless. Spring was your season: you sat by the open window watching crocuses and tulips outside grabbing hold. In December you were admitted— a borrowed hothouse room, its windows sealed: cut flowers filled a … Continue reading
Sunset, a high tide full of sand on thighs, of salt on sun-browned skin. A day of baking in the sun; now every look and touch is fire. Forty miles of interstate to get home. You and I are last … Continue reading
I sit in a small abandoned office space in Brighton. Outside, the traffic on North Beacon pulses. Inside, the air conditioner deadens sound. High on the wall behind my son his most recent paintings hang: sunlight curls beneath a turnpike … Continue reading
First, by horse-drawn wagon; then truck— fourteen hundred deliveries a day in winter; four thousand in the summer when the sun’s heat waited for an open door. Wagons, trucks, horses and rubber-aproned men all packed in sawdust preservers lost to … Continue reading