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Silence

Silence Mary Clearman Blew My son has not spoken to me in over twenty years. I reread the sentence I have just written and try and fail to connect the separate words with what they mean. Too many meanings, too many years. I believe there is pain in this world that is never healed, no matter how many years pass, but not this pain, not for me. What I feel, behind the bare words, is really more of an apprehension. What loose ends, what dirty secrets? What gargoyle struggles to open her eroded eyes and flap into the light? If I write another sentence, will I begin to grieve? What if I don't? The Bertolucci film Last Tango in Paris finally had come to a movie theater in Havre, Montana, and Jack was beside himself to see it. Alas, Last Tango was X-rated, and Jack was only fourteen. Jack and his best friend, Sean Prentiss, were big movie buffs, and they had worked out a system to get themselves into R-rated movies, which required parental permission. At first Mrs. Prentiss and I, worn down by pleas and promises from our sons, would phone the manager of the movie theater http://www.deepdyve.com/assets/images/DeepDyve-Logo-lg.png Prairie Schooner University of Nebraska Press

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Publisher
University of Nebraska Press
Copyright
Copyright © University of Nebraska Press
ISSN
1542-426X
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Abstract

Mary Clearman Blew My son has not spoken to me in over twenty years. I reread the sentence I have just written and try and fail to connect the separate words with what they mean. Too many meanings, too many years. I believe there is pain in this world that is never healed, no matter how many years pass, but not this pain, not for me. What I feel, behind the bare words, is really more of an apprehension. What loose ends, what dirty secrets? What gargoyle struggles to open her eroded eyes and flap into the light? If I write another sentence, will I begin to grieve? What if I don't? The Bertolucci film Last Tango in Paris finally had come to a movie theater in Havre, Montana, and Jack was beside himself to see it. Alas, Last Tango was X-rated, and Jack was only fourteen. Jack and his best friend, Sean Prentiss, were big movie buffs, and they had worked out a system to get themselves into R-rated movies, which required parental permission. At first Mrs. Prentiss and I, worn down by pleas and promises from our sons, would phone the manager of the movie theater

Journal

Prairie SchoonerUniversity of Nebraska Press

Published: Jul 17, 2010

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