Carol Novack
     

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The four horses regurgitated the French horns, which played nocturnes at our wedding.

–from Eating Habits of the Poor

Should we listen to the news when it repeats itself like a recurrent nightmare, regurgitating the poisonous contents of its feeding tubes?

– from Coal Dust

Frigid air leaks through the floor reaching for flesh, like knives.

– from A Tourist in Siberia

Where did you forsake it, you careless, reckless girl, her mother asked, not really asking, simply telling the child in her flat voice, as always: I told you so, you are not my daughter. Where did you come from?

– from Her Hat
 
     

 

 

 

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