Tag Archives: Elisabeth Blair

Fusch, Austria

I hold a lighter to the dandelion. God, You designed it so well: a globe in flames, then gone. All the children there, then none.   God, give me something besides wine and hanging clothes to dry. Give me the … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Sister Monologue

Have you ever – like – I know what fear smells like I get it on my hands   Help, little sister Help me: it’s probably still in the stupid package and I’m too naked to get it open This … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Memoir of an 80s Child

Grass grew downstairs. We climbed in at one point and made it our own. We came well-equipped, with desk and bowl and books. We called it the name of the parasite that is too beautiful; it should have been a … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Yup

I waited on them to come home, but I had not received enough permission to pass the walkway I could go as far as this You know me, so you know how it must feel to be that obeying, to … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry | Tagged | Leave a comment

Martinsburg, West Virginia

We were in the state side of the jail. My cellmate would sit and make faces at the federal prisoners from the window. Every meal we got a roll and he would save half his roll and feed it to … Continue reading

Posted in Poetry, Reprint | Tagged | Leave a comment