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Diet, and: The End of the Holidays

Diet, and: The End of the Holidays William Virgil Davis Diet I wonder what you must have been like at sixteen or seventeen ­ beautiful, no doubt, but even then (those terrified eyes) afraid of what you knew you didn't know, of what you guessed and what you kept at bay ­ the way you kept the boys away by asking them to come close, come closer. It is still all there in your eyes, but I am old enough to know such tricks, the way you've teased life itself into a corner, like a cat a mouse, playing with it ­ thinking at any time you could end the game any way you wanted. You ate words for the sake of poems and swallowed them so hard it hurt to watch. Now you have grown thin. You take a cracker or two for lunch, nibble several bites for dinner. We never talk of anything edible. You wear the same suit you wore thirty years ago, the day I first saw you ­ all in black 33 in a stark white room, reading with such a hush we all held our breath. Your words echoed in our heads as if they were our own. But, http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Prairie Schooner University of Nebraska Press

Diet, and: The End of the Holidays

Prairie Schooner , Volume 80 (3)

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Publisher
University of Nebraska Press
Copyright
Copyright © 2006 by the University of Nebraska Press.
ISSN
1542-426X
Publisher site
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Abstract

William Virgil Davis Diet I wonder what you must have been like at sixteen or seventeen ­ beautiful, no doubt, but even then (those terrified eyes) afraid of what you knew you didn't know, of what you guessed and what you kept at bay ­ the way you kept the boys away by asking them to come close, come closer. It is still all there in your eyes, but I am old enough to know such tricks, the way you've teased life itself into a corner, like a cat a mouse, playing with it ­ thinking at any time you could end the game any way you wanted. You ate words for the sake of poems and swallowed them so hard it hurt to watch. Now you have grown thin. You take a cracker or two for lunch, nibble several bites for dinner. We never talk of anything edible. You wear the same suit you wore thirty years ago, the day I first saw you ­ all in black 33 in a stark white room, reading with such a hush we all held our breath. Your words echoed in our heads as if they were our own. But,

Journal

Prairie SchoonerUniversity of Nebraska Press

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