—after The Nutty Professor (1996) Beside Eddie Murphy there is always another Eddie Murphy even more convincingly Eddie Murphy than the last Eddie Murphy visited upon you.
(Eurydice still in Hell) Now I wonder if he looked back on purpose to get rid of me and commit to living with grief, a less demanding companion. As he mourns me in solitude, the songs that cascade from the lyre make gods, humans, and animals intoxicated with sorrow. He wrenches water from granite and […]
A keening culprit, I came unzipped, unwed. My penance, to be province, to lie across a millstone bed, ground to powder, to be wife again. And you, my conspirator, my paramour, you strapped your longing to a sail, sent from town, sent to be lost. But trilobites cluster beneath your feet on mountaintop that was […]
His hands felt like paws or flippers, big and inarticulate, as if the spaces between shoulder socket and elbow joint and between the finger bones had all fused in the August sun, a kind of annealing, so what had once been uncured now had been except that mobility and utility had been replaced with one […]
This unavoidable pilgrimage is my self-portrait: Wandering through poppies in the Provençal fields, I heard spades sink in gravelly ground, an old woman digging Turf. In the furrows, a flute fallen among sunflowers. I played peasant songs for plates of boiled potatoes To commoners and wanderers in the shadows of a cypress. Night painted no […]
“You might die writing a five hundred page novel” –Alice Munro What we must know at seventy-eight. The thrill a veteran with leukemia gets when comparing his slutty masseuse Roxanne to Alexander the Great’s wife Roxanne. Earnest Bottoms, a country scholar’s nickname for Ernie Botts, her neuter cousin. Death is on the horizon. We can […]