He felt
his usual
vertigo
as he entered
the house.
— Joyce Carol Oates, short story "Labryinth"
(McSweeney's 29)
Showing posts with label Joyce Carol Oates. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Joyce Carol Oates. Show all posts
January 9, 2012
September 7, 2008
Facial
Pop Olafsson was this fattish
bald guy with a face
like a wrinkled dishrag
left in the sun to dry.
-- Joyce Carol Oates, "High Lonesome"
(Zoetrope: All-Story, Winter 2005)
bald guy with a face
like a wrinkled dishrag
left in the sun to dry.
-- Joyce Carol Oates, "High Lonesome"
(Zoetrope: All-Story, Winter 2005)
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