VERSE
Friend, Barbara
BARBARA FRIEND KEEPING MY BROTHER Grief chooses a time here in the laundramat. Not the scene of the crime, this abysmal watering hole where drab women ponder the ephemeral. Thirty years late an...
...In from the canning factory four tiny Spanish men like sparrows on a wire stop cluttering to stare, as if the plaster virgin had bled a single tear.gle tear...
...Thirty years late an alien sorrow wets my face to fall amid greying sheets, tabloids, grim dogs, the staleness of poverty...
...I go on sorting socks...
Vol. 102 • June 1975 • No. 6
