Arsenic Lobster poetry journal |
Issue Twenty-seven Winter 2011 |
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The Geography of a Well Andrea D.E. Levin Careful walk, slight flicker of his finger along the kitchen counter to keep his balance. This same calloused finger has spent hours circling the rim of a glass of undiluted Southern Comfort. Eventually we stop hearing the high, steady ring that glides through the air. Every night I clear paths for him: through the study, down the hall to his bedroom, to the bathroom, the ottoman kicked out of the way and the toilet seat always up. The geography of a well never changes: The familiar dimming of light as we fall, the same soft insulation of moss— a dense ecosystem of darkness. And on our backs, the same narrowing frame of stars. |
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