Anne Elizabeth Weisgerber

Writer, Editor, Teacher

Search for:

The world is a Brazilian ballad

“…Ellen Barkin we liked her liked her legitimacy…”

“Bankers were spreadsheet squirrels, coders squirreled away data.”

He shifts his head upright and says, “Take my hand.” It is cold, rubbery like the fingers have no bones.

Who had made the sheets so smooth and white and neat?

What’s the song? I was out of my mind on a rack of pain and thought ‘is there a God?’

I remember the old deck of cards, there were only forty-seven, how we played war and slap-jacked those cards, their clay-coated smoothness.

story hunter, author, and keeper of imaginary beasts

Home of Author, Delia Remington

reading * writing * thinking

Post to

Cancel