by Centaur Lit | Apr 11, 2023 | Spring 2023
You love parentheses and asides. (It’s a matter of depth perception, figure and ground, the interplay of what jumps out and what hangs back. Or perhaps it’s a matter of boundaries, what’s central and what’s peripheral. Or just the way the text opens up given...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 11, 2023 | Spring 2023
When I hear you brother, trembling in your grave, I imagine you alive. Sharp as black pepper. I catch you in the scent of gunpowder, in tunes whistled from someone’s mouth. In limbs of snow waiting like brides in the woods. Once, we went together on our bellies with...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 4, 2023 | Spring 2023
My man was in the hands of a handsome doctor, and I worried. The type of monied goodguy who was deficient in doubt, who when driving his vintage convertible through a dark, damp tunnel that had been cored through the thick of a mountain never thought about collapse....
by Centaur Lit | Apr 4, 2023 | Spring 2023
I was driving away from my kids’ school when that Pat Benatar song came on the radio and I started singing, started thinking about the lyrics, and missed my turn. I was headed out of town, past all the banks and gas stations, through the industrial corridor, past the...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 4, 2023 | Spring 2023
We stood like statues in the nighttime forest, barely breathing. A howl ricocheted through the trees, but we saw nothing but fog. We conjured ghosts in our minds. I wished I were home in front of the fire in my robe and slippers. Wilson and I were out here in the...
by Centaur Lit | Apr 3, 2023 | Centaur, Spring 2023
Days on the beach under a tin sky, sand castles on the tidal flats. Your mum doesn’t take any phone calls, your mum grabs your hand, keeps pulling you. It’s a weird holiday, the caravan, the beach road, the flats. Cockles popping up from the ground, tickling...