Tag Archives: Keith Polette

Weather or Not

A man waiting in line to pay for his groceries is caught in a tornado. He is spinning so fast that his face is a blur. His shirt and pants are starting to tear, his jacket sleeves are shredded, and … Continue reading

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The River

The clear stream carried the morning sunlight to the bend where it disappeared. I waded in and cast my line to the shallows of the opposite bank, hoping to hook walleye or bass. After an hour or two of casting … Continue reading

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Laundry Day

the white shirts pinned to the clothesline are the headless ghosts of businessmen socks are quarter notes in B flat minor dangling from the bottom of the scale pants are rabbit ears, stiff and upside down, alert for the treble … Continue reading

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French Cinema

In the French film, the train pulls into the station, and we hear the sharp pitch of brakes and the rush of air as the train comes to a stop. This makes us think that time is an action of … Continue reading

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Blackberries

Dark clots on spiked branches, these blackberries glisten with a sweetness that their thornless cousins lack. Their barbed spines are a warning and a dare, telling you that you will bleed with every pluck, your fingers pricked with each pick, … Continue reading

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Desert Menagerie

Hummingbirds are created when you blow out the flame of a blue-headed match. Blue jays come to life after a jazz saxophone riffs a solo. Grackles are black bishops that have risen from chessboards and flown away. Tarantulas are born … Continue reading

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