Smeary Flowers, 1983
Lauren Camp
All I wanted was the haze of a worn gown / of sleep after the scrape of that / honey-sipped night.
All I wanted was the haze of a worn gown / of sleep after the scrape of that / honey-sipped night.
All summer the future had been coming for us like a thunderstorm at which turkeys look up and drown in the rain.
This has to stop— / you're a year dead. I shatter the mirror // with a glare, pace the hall carpet, / but others arrive by dawn, agitated // by thuribles, syllables scattered from / pulpits, daughters buttoned into pastel.
fuck me here on this scabrous mountain while we all watch each other among sacred olives fuck away desire.
Watching the blood drain was the moment she knew/ that she didn’t have it figured out."
Tanja and I were competing to see who had moved the most as a child.
“I know of at least fourteen places we lived before I was eighteen,” I said.
Tanja started naming places she had lived. She kept naming her grandma’s house over and over, between every place.
My sense of regret is the dog
you remember with immense fondness
but that you no longer know.
Caitlyn, let me take that hair / in my own hands and curl it down your back.
The Dinosaur of Wyoming
I was never born a hermaphrodite. But I tell this story where I am born a hermaphrodite. And anyone listening after I get to the part when the gynecologist asks if
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Motherhood slept astonished as astronomers wept so-so-ago with this sort of blow. This sort of ovary, yo, the story being if thrown into something sombrous, spokes-of-light, it
Love is like a museum. You have to look around, experience things, and then leave.
"I loved reading Exit, Carefully. It’s unusual, and in my opinion exciting, to publish a play without previously receiving a major production."
-Walker Caplan, Lithub