Gardner Library's interior will be closed to the public Wednesday, Oct. 5 until mid-December.
I wish I had trauma that I could spin into a story,
a story that would grip your thoughts tighter than leather binding,
Something I could rip to shreds, over-analyze in the margins,
sew back together, and send off to the publisher before I tear myself apart.
Every Saturday, after work, I visit my grandmother at her nursing home. It’s about a half an hour drive to get there, but it’s worth the drive. Grandma G isn’t the normal nursing home type you’d think of: sweet, unsuspecting, a kind of elderly innocence.
But you need it, you said. I thought you wanted to be beautiful. I slammed my hands on the wheel of your Land Rover and pulled over to the side of the road near the big houses with green lawns and trampolines, Norfolk Way.
He woke up shivering, the cold hard floor having been his bed for the night. His brain throbbed as he pushed himself up, making it hard to remember what last happened. He held his head in his hands as he thought it over until an eerie sob bounced off the walls.
Inside the window, a family you’ll see
A mother, a father, brothers, and
dogs as earsplitting as can be
But this family is the best
Superior to all the rest
Because this family has a bond
We’re all rather fond of
Stick together through harsh times
Uncle Felix grew up in a small town called Shinzhu, located on the north side of Taiwan. His family was not able to afford extra clothing or toys or even to pay for his education. Uncle Felix learned to take what life gave him, and to always look on the bright side of things.
Police tape lines the yard
I walk past
Baby blue house in cookie-cutter neighborhood
I look down and it says welcome
I quickly step in and close the door
so the camera flashes don’t glimpse inside
A table set for seven with pink orchids in the middle