Switched-on Gutenberg Issue 16
Among Other Things

A spoon left on the rest from her morning egg.
The calendar was wrong. It was nothing like Spring.
A field of headstones asks Have You Seen Me?
An aria, Puccini’s Nessun Dorma sung by Lanza, looped repeatedly.
A small black suitcase surfaced in a pond.
Close my eyes and the freeway sounds just like the ocean.
Unspeakable things can happen in churches.
The scent of freesias, chloroform.
She came home from school and kissed her mother.
The coffee had gone cold.
Daydreaming in Italian: chiaroscuro, baldacchino, sprezzatura.
The tree’s black arms hold her in the indigo lap of sky.
She was dead before they knew she was missing.
How ordinary this day was to be.

Box Construction (Shredded Text Roller Cage) - Prototype
Copyright 2010, David Francis

Copyright 2010,  Kelly Cressio-Moeller

Kelly Cressio-Moeller lives and writes in Northern California. Her work has appeared online at Eos: The Creative Context, in Santa Clara County’s A Family Album poem, Lilipoh magazine and is forthcoming in Remembering: An Anthology of Poems.

<< Previous      Contents      Next   >>