SUPER ARROW

HOME/ABOUT/CURRENT ISSUE/ARCHIVE/MAKERS/SUBMISSIONS/BLOG

 

WHAT WILL HAPPEN///BASSETT

ONE NIGHT...///BASSETT

ON THE SURFACE///BYRNES

GORDON NOW///DENNIS

SUGAR///OGILVIE

[PARABLE...]///BATEMAN

CIRCA 193,000 B.C.///DAVID

GENERAL MOTORS...///ESTES

LIFE BEFORE RUGBY///G'SELL

I WISH I WAS...///G'SELL

BEGGAR...///HYLAND

A MAN-SHAPED GLOW...///HYLAND

DIRECT ADDRESS///KLAVER

A THE BEAUT///KLAVER

TWO POEMS///SOMERVILLE

MY PHANTOM STUFF///RAVEN

COME OVER...///ZAMMARELLI

CONVERSATION///COMMUNITY

 

LIFE BEFORE RUGBY Eileen G'Sell

But who's to say what street name matters?
The sweater girl who needs directions must be a little bit
gold, no? When it got dark,

she gave you her glasses, gave you a map
of the best state parks. Each excuse
that made you small was suddenly big and lemon-looking.
You lost your brother's apartment number.
No one called to invite you back.

Accidental denouement, make-believe aromas, all
without hypotheses, albeit with faith.
She was right, you know. Life should be exciting.
Save a bite meant just for you and eat it in the morning.