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Tag Archives: M. J. Iuppa
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
One year ago, an October brimming with uncertainty, and now standing before Ontario’s choppy waters, I turn to pick up a leaf that’s redder than the rest, lying one on top of the other, beneath the sugar maple’s wide stance, … Continue reading
In the middle of nowhere, a field described in fiction, without cattle or farmhand or an abandoned car left underneath a scrub tree that endures drought and flood and the intermittent buzz, stands fallow with its impression of wild carrot … Continue reading
Not the blistered frame of the church that sits too close to the tracks, or its windows now mercurial in day- light’s surrender—no, this seems to be more than I know about living here, even though I have lived here … Continue reading