A holiday from time

It makes me remember
all the times we�ve been together
absolutely alone in some suspended hour
a holiday from Time
prowling about in those quiet places
alienated from past and future
where there is no sound save listening
and vision is an anesthetic�

When I see how handsome you are
my stomach will fall
with many unpleasant emotions
like a cake with too many raisins
and I will want to shut you up in a closet
like a dress too beautiful to wear.



A letter from Zelda Fitzgerald to her husband F. Scott Fitzgerald in 1931. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi.

The Lady is a Tramp

It happened incrementally
I needed the dough
I was in a lot of trouble
I went to the library
I needed to come up with 40 bucks
to get my kitty�s, Doris�s, tests back.

I took a couple of Fanny Brice letters
slipped them in my sneakers
sold them to a place called Argosy.
They would pay more for better content.
A big white space at the bottom of a letter
after, 'yours truly, Fanny Brice�
I got an old typewriter
I wrote a couple of hot sentences
improved the letter and elevated the price.

�I have a hangover out of Gounod�s Faust�
�canny old Kraut remains one of my most cherished friends�
�a bright, talented actress,
quite attractive since she dealt
with her monstrous English overbite.��

larky and fun and totally cool

Is it absolution she�s seeking, or admiration?

On and off welfare,
a horror beyond my talent to describe
My most enduring memory
is the odour in the elevators:
eau de desperation!



From Lee Israel, literary forger - obituary, The Telegraph, 24 February 2015. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi.

Death in the afternoon

My body is falling apart, he said
He shaved meticulously
He forgot about his eyes and ears
He smelled good

Bloody certificates
another barrier to impetuous action
in case of lovelorn despair, for example
ten minutes before noon

A sparkling, sunny day in late spring
We ate more cherries
Even he tasted one or two
and the angels looked quite grateful

No one talked about the next act
No one talked very much at all
The angels went for a walk around the garden
We stayed where we were, savouring the lovely day

Do you know what this is?
Do you know what will happen if you drink it?
Do you want me to give it to you?
Yes, I do. I will die.

His eyes shut, quietly
It�s over now
Goodbye then
I returned to the garden.



From 'I held his hand as he drank the fatal dose': the day my husband chose to die by Liesl Graz, The Guardian 7 February 2015. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi.

My Favourite Fairy

She has very delicate sparkly bright blue eyes
and a red red red red red red dress
That�s why I love her
so much




A small girl talks to her mother. Overheard on the street, 3 September 2014. Submitted by Grace Andreacchi.