Everything There
by: Robin Turner I would go to you weekends in that falling down dump of an apartment. You had one table, one chair, one thin mattress on the floor. One lamp for dimmed light. One bowl and one spoon. We would curl spent, one breath in the silence. My children away with their father. My life in the suburbs shuttered shut out. This was the place on Hawthorne Street before everything there was razed. |
Robin Turner is the author of bindweed & crow poison (Porkbelly Press). Her work has most recently appeared in Whale Road Review, SWWIM, Psaltery & Lyre, and in the magical White Rock Zine Machine. She works, plays, and daydreams in Dallas, Texas.
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