Eating in Afghanistan
first draft red earth for miles – smoldering and speckled with the markings of aggression – artillery holes and camouflaged tents and metal instruments of war confronting cloudlessness. Men rest on folding chairs in white underwear and t-shirts, stained with dirt, some of them wrap shirts around their heads like turbans – either an ignorant joke or a practical way of keeping close-shaved...
Text from my most recent poem, first-draft. Because the Grimm Brothers do it best. Looking back on the Gold Slipper by: Evelyn Seay Every morning, with birds bidding me forward I open the doors of the armoire in my bedroom to admire my fortune: my golden slipper fitting only my dainty foot. I kept it, that golden slipper which doomed my sisters to their lame gait and blind grimace. It...