A MUSICLESS PLACE
We believe in the power of the library desk and the way its wooden sections create seconds of privacy. The bike cops keep their pant legs rolled in case of a high speed pursuit.
She decided the engagement was a waste of time; porcelain cups are about as useful as tonguing the garbage disposal.
You are not modern. The three-piece suit is not a symbol of one who professes to eat nothing but bland oatmeal.
We won’t leave this soil. The potatoes are planted, and what else is there but roots sucking moisture from dirt? The people in the other village spit snot onto their barn floors, then cover their roofs with hay.
In other areas, they gather all the singers into a large courtyard. A gunshot makes a perfect E flat, and the sound of a lute breaking against a tree is an A sharp major, though nobody is left to prove it.
Drew Kalbach lives in Philadelphia. He has a blog at: