Old Women
Riding in the limo with grandma and her sisters,
I listened as they filled the car with easy chatter.
Enrobed in navy blue, black
or other drama-tinted skirt suits
and Black Sunday hats,
they compared their pistols,
some with wooden handles,
others were all cold black metal,
a silver or marble-white, perhaps.
Their bags held their bullet powder secrets.
I listened as they filled the car with easy chatter.
Enrobed in navy blue, black
or other drama-tinted skirt suits
and Black Sunday hats,
they compared their pistols,
some with wooden handles,
others were all cold black metal,
a silver or marble-white, perhaps.
Their bags held their bullet powder secrets.
I was nine years old
and we were leading car loads
of people to God�s home
through sticky, thick mosquito Louisiana.
white-gloved women,
book-leather skinned women,
ready to defend,
even now.
When the car came to a halt in the grey gravel,
so did the casual talk of weaponry.
and we were leading car loads
of people to God�s home
through sticky, thick mosquito Louisiana.
white-gloved women,
book-leather skinned women,
ready to defend,
even now.
When the car came to a halt in the grey gravel,
so did the casual talk of weaponry.
Grandma reached into her loaded purse
and pulled out a white handkerchief.
Her romance novel hands took my warm palm,
and placed her tote on her shoulder.
and pulled out a white handkerchief.
Her romance novel hands took my warm palm,
and placed her tote on her shoulder.
She stepped into the church
to grandpa�s funeral,
who died of a heart attack.
to grandpa�s funeral,
who died of a heart attack.
Mail-Order Bride: Julie
His human-sized wooden package waited for him
in the empty corner of his loft.
she�s arrived! in all her glory,
packed in Styrofoam peanuts!
in the empty corner of his loft.
she�s arrived! in all her glory,
packed in Styrofoam peanuts!
Her profile:
I am excited you are concerned about me. I am lucky. I was married eight years ago. My ex-husband died on car accident. After, I was originally lonely. I would like to forget. I am looking for a man who believes in everything. Who a man that listens, watches a full moon. If you are interested in wanted to know more about me, we can whisper.
With love in his heart,
he grabbed a cro-bar, cracked open the box,
and out leaped a hundred singing grasshoppers.
he grabbed a cro-bar, cracked open the box,
and out leaped a hundred singing grasshoppers.
How We Sleep at Night
Our backs like canvases
face each other
as we tug at a blanket
just big enough for two
young and desperately cold bodies.
face each other
as we tug at a blanket
just big enough for two
young and desperately cold bodies.
The fan hums and clicks
above our heads.
The chill of the evening
numbs my exposed toes.
I sigh,
Oh, God.
He stirs:
above our heads.
The chill of the evening
numbs my exposed toes.
I sigh,
Oh, God.
He stirs:
What about God?
Nothing. Sleep.
Bionote
Nicholas Goodly is a graduate poetry student at Columbia University. He is the current art editor of Columbia Journal Online and writing editor of WUSSY Magazine . He has also been published in Anamesa Journal and Cactus Heart.
Nothing. Sleep.
Bionote
Nicholas Goodly is a graduate poetry student at Columbia University. He is the current art editor of Columbia Journal Online and writing editor of WUSSY Magazine . He has also been published in Anamesa Journal and Cactus Heart.
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