written By
October 28, 2020
In 1956 a dinosaur returns from the dead and enters our post office. Has he eaten the letters we never wrote? Tonight you and I discuss ottomans. You like them small, I like them large, and divorce hovers over us like a honeybee above clover. We change the subject. We do that a lot. Subjects have sharp teeth. It’s best to leave the room when they’re hungry. Outside our house, no grass blade grows higher than another. An egalitarian lawn. We’re having a baby soon. Despite being two men. It’s a new time. We have good levers. The lights go on as if by magic. And stay on. Darkness leaves the piano bench — we never see it again.
More from this Author
Kenneth Pobo has a new book out from Assure Press called Uneven Steven . His work has appeared in: North Dakota Quarterly , Hawaii Review , Atlanta Review , Nimrod , and elsewhere.
Pobo
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