Suddenly I wasn't myself anymore.
I was his absence.
Even in my new white veil
and black patent shoes,
I was the dented suitcase
he had left behind.
— Tania James, short story "The Gulf" (Boston Review, March/April 2012)
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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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