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Tag Archives: M. J. Iuppa
Looking out the kitchen window, I run my eye over the remoteness of the back yard & take an inventory of what remains the same… The way the watering can never moves from its station beneath the crabapple tree, or … Continue reading
These mornings taste of iron; somehow, its bitter tang doesn’t wash off the tongue but stays in the back of the throat, like a cry that suits the constant hunger of just-hatched robins, wanting their bellies full be- fore it’s … Continue reading
In late October, a Sunday afternoon doesn’t last for long. The front lawn’s littered with soggy sycamore leaves & it looks deceptively cold outside, but it isn’t. Wind pushes things around, seemingly shiftless in its going no place special, like … Continue reading
If I knew the precise hour that’s natural as uncertain weather, that’s neither winter or spring, but something that insinuates itself in a blank sky, I would be guilty of living detached yet watchful of a wall that casts its … Continue reading
Sticky notes. 500 neon squares. Enough to leave a detailed message on his new cobalt blue Mustang. She said it in bold felt tip. It took the better part of a day to write. She waited for darkness to settle in before … Continue reading
She knows you—the sound of your quick step, your considered breath, your cottony voice, unfolding like a Best of All quilt that comforts her; comforts you, too. Your tongues grow thick with imposition— greasy burgers wrapped in leafy lettuce and house chardonnay. It’s … Continue reading
From the sidelines, it appears to be a game called happiness. There’s an assemblage of 24+ sun-struck selfies, showing spicy tacos and industrial-strength margaritas. Someone asks about the weather, the water, the sticky sand stuck in between toes. The husband sleeps off the … Continue reading