Volume No. XVIII
Volume No. XVII
Volume No. XVI
Volume No. XV
Volume No. XIV
Volume No. XIII
Volume No. XII
Volume No. XI
Volume No. X
Volume No. IX
Volume No. VIII
Volume No. VII
Volume No. VI
Volume No. V
Volume No. IV
Volume No. III
Volume No. II
Volume No. I
Archives
Volume No. I
Volume No. II
Volume No. III
Volume No. IV
Volume No. V
Volume No. VI
Volume No. VII
Volume No. VIII
Volume No. IX
Volume No. X
Volume No. XI
Volume No. XII
Volume No. XIII
Volume No. XIV
Volume No. XV
Volume No. XVI
Volume No. XVII
Volume No. XVIII
By the time we leave the clinic, diagnosis hanging, it is raining. We follow a dark pickup freighted with teen boys, unafraid of getting wet. One bump or swerve on this slick street will toss these light weights from their bed.
To their own blasting music, the boys laugh at the old couple behind. They can't hear our meditative Brahms or see past the moment. Speaking softly to each other we skid into their tailgate as if to prove our point.
Beebe Barksdale-Bruner has an MFA in poetry from Queens University and a forth-coming book of poetry from Press 53 in 2007. She has a background in fine arts, a BFA in painting from UNC-Greensboro and work and awards in ceramics. She lives in Charlotte, NC with husband and 4 irresponsible cats.
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