Posts published in “Byline: ELEANOR RANDL”

  When the cold begins to seep beneath my clothes, I watch the dogs with wet backs and soft eyes. During the quiet, they gallop…

  Their fractured stories Sprawl out Into constellations Shattered chairs And beds And bones   Slivers In the black of night Dust to dust Stars…

  Pull the silver valve towards you marked with a tiny H barely legible it’s been worn and leathered fingers repeating the same motions year…

What are all of these things we fill our houses with? Our drawers. Our cabinets. We are collectors of books and tablecloths. Poems and jewelry.…

flashlights matzo this summer is darker than the rest keep the lights off keep the windows shut we wear the night on our shoulders draped…

Scratchy sheets fire ants racing twisted oranges and blues on a patient sky green they grow my grandfather’s copper kisses his amber eyes we sit…

She drew dragons on her paper the girl with sad eyes two green marbles blinking long and hard between smudges of fire and scaly skin…

Stomping and clapping they imitate gunfire every sound is like a shot beads of sweat surface tears wiped away with leathery fingers they cry out…