Winter 2013: Poetry
Before Going to Murder by the Book, We Stop at Zell's
by Carol Frischmann
Before going to Murder by the Book, we stop at Zell’s to split a German-Apple pancake. He raises his cup; I don’t like to watch the coffee struggle to remain within the rim. Your mother never got over that you didn’t marry and have children, he says. I always ignore his declarations, hot forged and barbed, imperfectly disguised harpoons. Today, I am tired. Before he takes what’s left, I scoop half the raspberry jam and say, Well, I never got over it either. I wanted kids who would ride farm ponies, tend chickens – a mess of adopted kids. The eggy pancake comes divided, on two plates, each half with powdered sugar and lemon, each stuffed with firm chunks of apple. Why didn’t you get married? He acts as if I could go to a spouse store. I’d like to see your stock of tall farmers, indifferent to color and culture, but not too Godly. I say, I never found the right person. He waves his fork. The bra-burners did you no favor, con-fus-ing ev-er-y-thing. You wanted independence, and being an independent person is not a marriage. Afternoons on the black pony, I had galloped the barbed wire fence from one end of the farm to the other. I’d rather be alone than trapped.
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Enjoy the richness: thirteen poets, nineteen poems, and a diversity of style and craft. |
Three memoirists share their emotional truths in these slices-of-life. |
Our featured artist, as well as painters and photographers, provide colorful visions that will leave you seeing the world in new ways. |
Three emerging writers share talent and creativity far beyond their years. |
Learn more about the contributors who make us proud of our Winter 2013 edition. |
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