Cursing Mantis

One must imagine the laundress happy under the busy street in a steam filled cellar peering out the dusty pane of a hopper window to the shoppers above who collect coupons and stack discount mailers on the counter. Still, laundry Sisyphus scours common delicates reeking of lye and blinding with

Small green sand bucket Holding my daughter's laughter Ebb tide pulls away

Tear-filled fear at the start and then the excitement of buying a high-end stroller we pushed around the mall filled with doll clothes and music boxes in preparation for our still imaginary fare. That night, I caught you round bellied, surveying my construction of the crib. Your expression frozen in

"Hey daddy, do you have a picture of just you in a frame? So I can remember you when you die." The memory of you, silhouette against the lake, pensive and staring out into reflections and ripples, casting a net of thought, almost indistinguishable from the pillars of