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Tag Archives: Len Kuntz
February, so uncouth, unkind, a month meant for lovers, snowmelt ruddy with stones and wrappers and unclaimed feces. Air thick like a question caught in the throat, a balloon unable to ascend. Our child’s eyes pull back the covers, tell … Continue reading
That night I collected dust between my teeth, sucked the chalk deep into my lungs, letting the grit settle and clog all airways. It may have been murder, might have been suicide. You never were one for opinions. That night … Continue reading
If only because the babies need you. Though the rosebushes need you, too. The bruises need you. Open-air burglaries need you. Mealtime belching needs you. Barricades. Blockades. What-looks-like-Borscht-but-isn’t needs you. Bleeding-between-the-legs needs you. The Before-it-started needs you. The But-that-wasn’t-me-it-was-someone-else-My-cousin-Tommy-maybe needs you. … Continue reading
And since we are speaking of love stories, notice that the alligators decimated dessert and have tossed their bloody napkins in the swamp where we used to swim. Yesterday you waltzed while I walked deadbolt into traffic. You spoke ekphrasis, … Continue reading
Today I am desperate for love again, a toyless toddler, a junkyard dog gnawing on its chains. This sidecar rain wants no part of me. The old eagle shivers in its elevator nest. The trees sob and moan, their limbs … Continue reading
I’d like to read every book on your shelves, find each dog-eared page, the sentences underlined, the fragments of musical text you found most fascinating. I’d string them together with a glue gun, wrap that lexicon noose around my bare … Continue reading