Tag Archives: M. J. Iuppa

The Metaphysics of Crossword Puzzles

Posted on January 7, 2019 by

I want to pass time in bed with its mess of quilts and pillows & luxury of breakfast—toast, I presume—and brewed coffee, and an egg, soft- boiled, poised in its porcelain cup; and the daily news with its debate and … Continue reading →

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Tensions

Posted on December 11, 2018 by

By virtue that’s inherent—a pursuit of happiness—he tells me, the garden is set to grow in thirteen raised beds. We wait, wanting the best of everything, but in our own bed, we doubt what we have done. All night, silence … Continue reading →

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In Other Words

Posted on October 18, 2018 by

Rising in morning’s half-shadows, in the purr of rain caught in the back of the gutter’s throat, I gather ripe tomatoes sitting in flats on the porch and bring them in to be processed in the steamy kitchen where pots … Continue reading →

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Interrogation

Posted on August 3, 2018 by

Sitting here, on this paint-peeling bench, with two squirmy kids eating sloppy cones, and three tethered dogs standing guard, waiting for my signal. I’m wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, so I can be distracted without anyone knowing how I count … Continue reading →

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Good Luck

Posted on August 2, 2018 by

First days of summer, small plates to share; shimmering white wine glasses full of tonal ambiguity—it’s poetry. They know their limits, and get very close to admitting that this beet salad with its bright orange slices, goat cheese, and nasturtiums … Continue reading →

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Hurry

Posted on June 26, 2018 by

Past dinghy storefronts, past doorways with broken thresholds, a girl wearing rain boots stomps through puddles; her green backpack stuffed with sticks the width of thumbs—her left fist wrapped around a bunch of just picked daffodils. She’s going somewhere—her cheeks … Continue reading →

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Faith, Healer

Posted on May 15, 2018 by

Slumped in a straight-backed chair, she squints at her phone’s screen, scrolling for tragedies to comfort her. She likes to imagine what she would do when the whole world would know her terrible story. She practices saying the right thing … Continue reading →

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