1. “Did you know that rain originated in the big bang?” Sarah asks me after Spanish Class. I tell her that everything originated in the big bang. She’s quiet as we walk to the cafeteria^she eats her lunch, a plastic bag full of romaine lettuce and another containing fruit loops. Senorita Frank wore a blue … Continue reading
Tag Archives: john thornburg
Oklahoma Two-Part Poem — John Thornburg
1. RE: Television the actress that plays the high school student on TV is actually 24, you can tell sometimes on the corners of her mouth when she laughs. hours add up as sediment layers my jeans canyon into pockets and stairs, Linda has a blueprint to build a star drive warp-engine. “time dilates as … Continue reading
A Scrubland Companion — John Thornburg
I once caught a glimpse of the floating mansion from the roof of my apartment complex at 10th and Foley. I went up there every now and then to smoke cigarettes and photograph sunrises or sunsets. Only this particular time I didn’t have my camera and this time I saw the mansion. Hovering noiselessly over … Continue reading
Train Atlas — John Thornburg
“the music in this town,” says Leo “is too fashion conscious for me.” His business plan involves opening a hotel in which all the rooms look like subway cars and vibrate pertinently with lights that move past the windows. At the front desk you have to turn in your clothes and they give you old … Continue reading
Good Weather in the Domain of Queen Mab — John Thornburg
1 You find Tina outside with cigarette breath. She challenges you to a winter foot race out to the sledding hill and back and you accept the air thin but prickly like thistles and thorns by the time you have to jump the fence your shoes and ankles are soaked if you lose she’ll give … Continue reading
The Attics of the Sea — John Thornburg
God, last seen in Milwaukee angry, turning rain into coffee waking up rats and the visiting team stranding benches and warm stadium seats. The surfaces of my city turn snow into steam and we, debris, huddle under tenements and towers the wires that connect them, which are the stitches in a blanket of rust. And I went … Continue reading
Coe Review 