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Two Poems

Rebecca Lehmann

Two Poems

In the many pages of the book of love this is only one story.

Two Poems

Not all his children love themselves. Look at little Adrienne.

Typhoon

The world seemed newly made and filled with a frightening silence.

Under the Mango Tree

A boy knew he wouldn’t see his mother’s face as he rose from the mat.

Unfinished Desires: Maud, Christmas 1951

The draft of ten handwritten pages would have to be cut back to five.

Unknown

The sense all along has been that there’s some madness in her.

Us

When the population was whiter, they fawned over the Korean.

Vertical Integration

“You’re great with people. Ever since you got over the drooling problem.”

Vieques

“No, no,” we say. “We’re fine! Really! We love things just the way they are!”

Villa Palms

Today the game was to try to catch one of the cats in a pillowcase.

Virility Ode

I remember speaking to Allison who asked me if I wanted to be a girl.

Wait

What I really meant to say is that I am tired. Beauty can demand so much.

Walk for Mankind

The door opened, and Dan stormed in, shouting, “Motherfuckers!”

Walking Out

The boy had never before seen his father hopeless. He was afraid.

Water Ghosts

I was only five when Dad told me I had died. “You drowned,” he said.

Watermark

Rain falls steadily, rattling down drainpipes and gurgling into gutters.

We Did Not Have a Dog

“Wanna give it a go?” my brother asks, nudging me with his 12-gauge.

Weekend

Amy put her arm around his shoulders. My boy. Isn’t he wonderful?

Weight

His eyes always astonish her. Iridescent blue, flecked with black. Her husband was gone, two years later than she should’ve thrown him out.

Weightless

The guy from the funeral home can’t get the gurney into the house.

What Dad Said

We need to stop talking about it, we need to put some pants on.

What Makes a Good Story Great

Lori & Garry Marshall

What We Left Behind

The Others came in the light of day and splayed Father open.

When My Alabama

there is no place on this earth I can run from my own prejudice

When You Write the Story

When you write the story of being a father don’t leave out the joy.

Who Are You With?

Lydda, when she closes her eyes, has traded one war zone for another.

Why I Was in Vietnam

I was opposed to the taking of human life. I was opposed to all war.

Window Washer

The window washer smiles a little and licks his lips. Nadine smiles back.

Windward Ho!

Dad is catnip to the lady residents. He’s tall and lean, plus he’s got all his hair.