birds – mabel lee

The Day of the Dead

The end of October brings roadkill to the highways. All varieties of small, unfortunate animals litter the shoulders between Pennsylvania and Delaware, as if part of the fall foliage display — foxes, dogs, raccoons, fuzzy house cats splayed out like serial victims, collective suicides telling of lost volition. They must have never learned how toContinue reading “The Day of the Dead”

Devotion

Mechanisms for coping, counting sitting with hands splayed, we keep the throat from bursting into tide and whatever else we call how we want everything including what we last were forced to discard. Plainly the birds hover like a fleet of darts and the grey sky bears down against the stretch of highway in palmContinue reading “Devotion”