Daughter by Marjorie Maddox Always, I have grieved this day. Gone and not-gone. Your silence, thick, betrays. Always I have grieved this day. Ghost that turns your face. Promise a song forgone. Always I have grieved this day. Gone…
Reviewed by Marcela Fuentes What She Was Saying, a finalist for the Katherine Anne Porter Award, delves into memory and desire, loss and longing, and the unexpected pathos of the commonplace. In these finely-wrought stories, Marjorie Maddox reveals the complex…
Second-one, smaller than the pea beneath the princess, you toss-and-turn me, my sleep lost in the branches of your mustard-seed-tree just sprouting around the trunks of my aorta. There are so many places to spread your leafy-you inside this insomnious…