by Laine Derr

 

Near the end of life, days spent pruningcherished flowers, she recounts howa father, medium-rare, smelled of whiskeyand cigars. How her better half, rollingaway, unearthed a much better half. Howshe rustles bushes for hiding quails –aching for topknots. How leaders, hoodhustlers, born from broken beds, liveevery day to the shortest. And how she’snurtured figures of speech: a floating girl,a tulip tree, a garden of pills and papers.

 

 


Laine Derr holds an MFA from Northern Arizona University and has published interviews with Carl Phillips, Ross Gay, Ted Kooser, and Robert Pinsky. Recent work has appeared or is forthcoming from Chapter House, ZYZZYVA, Hollins Critic, Oxford Magazine, Prairie Schooner, and elsewhere.


[ table of contents ]