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Eurydice, and: My ever after, and: Last

Eurydice, and: My ever after, and: Last Prairie Schooner Bob Hicok Eurydice If you don't look back as we come up the stairs, if you let go, if you leave me invisible in that moment, just a sound behind, a dream the stairwell is having, I'll be released into kitchen, into daylight, I'll hold the ladder, I'll wet the rag, but if you turn, if you wonder, has she brought the screwdriver, did she remember the roller, I'll be pulled back by pool table, by couch, I'll hear your screams for someone to open another gallon of paint, to answer the phone, and I'll change the channel, I'll adjust the afghan around my feet, and you will recall how lovely I was in my bandanna, my knee-ripped jeans, as sun eats your skin and gnats confound the air you breathe. My ever after The word paraíso is on my table, Portuguese for paradise. I will: put it in a red bowl with raspberries and yogurt, eat it with cinnamon, eat it from the vagina of my wife; put it in the shotgun and shoot it into the fog of the mountain, the breath of the sky. Now I look at my shoes, which never struck http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Prairie Schooner University of Nebraska Press

Eurydice, and: My ever after, and: Last

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
See Article on Publisher Site

Abstract

Prairie Schooner Bob Hicok Eurydice If you don't look back as we come up the stairs, if you let go, if you leave me invisible in that moment, just a sound behind, a dream the stairwell is having, I'll be released into kitchen, into daylight, I'll hold the ladder, I'll wet the rag, but if you turn, if you wonder, has she brought the screwdriver, did she remember the roller, I'll be pulled back by pool table, by couch, I'll hear your screams for someone to open another gallon of paint, to answer the phone, and I'll change the channel, I'll adjust the afghan around my feet, and you will recall how lovely I was in my bandanna, my knee-ripped jeans, as sun eats your skin and gnats confound the air you breathe. My ever after The word paraíso is on my table, Portuguese for paradise. I will: put it in a red bowl with raspberries and yogurt, eat it with cinnamon, eat it from the vagina of my wife; put it in the shotgun and shoot it into the fog of the mountain, the breath of the sky. Now I look at my shoes, which never struck

Journal

Prairie SchoonerUniversity of Nebraska Press

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