Karen Corcoran
Dabkowski
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Roll Call Reports of 3 dead 1 injured injury severity unknown at this time names withheld pending notification of families ..my god my god my god my god ..am I now to hope it's somebody else's child is this what it's come to ....how will I live let me... ask you that for 12 months who ....will I be when this is done-.. someone ..I've never met someone ....who stares counts cracks-..imagines she hears a voice say.. "Mom, Mom"...wonders is it true you hear it?... do I pray no...I lose myself in pornography......hoping flesh and flesh and flesh will chase death .....chalices ...don't do it takes the edge of me and pats ...it I need thunder now I am no Theresa ...of Avila my ecstasy is meaner... so there... why not hurl your fury square at me you Sky King .......drop a tear I am your vessel imperfect and I hurt we all do help us We are dying Eating Keys Watching my grandson, seven months of chubby flesh and wonder, propped on my lap at the desk in front of computer, he went from wriggle to still, and when I looked, he'd plucked the key from my desk drawer and was mouthing it. I took it back and felt him lunge for it again, and thought how often in our lives, do we reach for keys so important we would eat them if we could: keys to love or happiness, success or riches, or even something as simple as a good night's sleep, and how often do those appetites begin in the laps of those we love--the keys we reach for, keys to something forbidden, maybe the key itself, the thing we'd gulp right down before they looked. Believing In Something Agatha Condios was a liar; we all knew it. Said she had a vision praying her rosary while staring at the crucifix dangled from the end. She said it was a miracle, that instead of Jesus, torn and tortured, there were outstretched palms and in each palm, a darker spot not blood, but little blue flowers periwinkle's what she called them. With each decade the flower would change until it became a star that burned and went out. Black as pitch, then her palms began to itch and inside were pressed blue petals that smelled of Christmas ...............that's when her brother slapped her hard and called her liar. But when he looked to the river, fish were leaping up; they glowed like star fish. He walked home a little straighter, club foot and all. Main Page
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