Living Together
November 21, 2016Hybrid Poetry by Marian Kaplun Shapiro
Come home early, don’t (whatever), drive carefully, keep well, see you at Thanksgiving.
Come home early, don’t (whatever), drive carefully, keep well, see you at Thanksgiving.
When I close my eyes, I see neon. I’m told the baby is stoic.
What do the noises from my side sound like to them?
I don’t delude myself that writing an essay can somehow undo an act of violence.
Readers and writers can talk to each other across times and cultures.
You were so bored. You were so right.
Lovers will conspire, infatuation wrapped around their bodies, breathing in great gulps of each other.