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- The Great Excavation
- coming out in no particular order
- This town; a breathing crocodile, is a sad town…
- My grandfather on a sandglass
- what the little girl meant to say when the long-haired journalist asked: where are you from?
- The man who wrote bad poetry
- The dilemma of a poem
- a poem you read from right to left
- The federal constitution
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- coming out in no particular order eunoiareview.wordpress.com/2019/04/18/com… 18 hours ago
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Tag Archives: Kari Flickinger
This cycle ends in thirty years. If we could shift to love. Shift our winding guts. Shift to crickets instead of honey. Shift to non-cow, to vegetation to pumpkin, corn. The original banana—to coconut, olive—not almond. Close our mouths until … Continue reading
What words are now filed away from her seal? [Where mother is pressed between maiden and hag.] Nine months. A misery—oh, Mary. [The only survivor to escape his Fall.] And words are all. They’re planted seeds. Words grow, grant, build … Continue reading
The off-brand dolls had heads and arms that would pop right off. I had these and walnut shells from the tree that loomed over our rented house. Dolls are inadequate building material, unless you want to play at being domestic … Continue reading