My mother made a sound
and reached out her hand.
The sound was a metallic squeak,
a human-as-machine breaking down,
uttering last sounds
before the whole engine locks.
-- Alice Sebold, "The Lovely Bones"
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NOVEL POETRY:
FINDING THE POETIC
IN NOVELS
(and in short stories
and sometimes elsewhere)
[and posting pictures
of cool-looking authors]
About Me
- Ron
- Editor-type in ATL. (Have a poem in Washington, D.C.-area literary magazine Gargoyle and two in The South Carolina Review.)
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