Laura Gregory (series) When They Ask Why You Didn’t Stop Him You’ll want to explain how the alarm sounds like a dishwasher looping in the next room, hushing “not you, not you” and who would run from that, but why is a blade, a slap, a whip that cracks in your ears and echoes until […]
Read More5 of 5 in a series Laura Gregory Pull Years later when you pass steep stair wells, empty elevator shafts gaping black and bottomless, wood chippers gnashing, train tracks vibrating invisible math— distance over time equals what if there’s a jolt and your feet slip, leap, attach however briefly to nothingness, to one unsheathed flash […]
Read More4 of 5 in a series Laura Gregory On Good Days For long stretches you’ll forget when breath finds an easy loop from lips to lungs, when legs glide, when both knees hinge like greased cranks on a carousel and feet float like pretty horses that never touch the track. Laura Gregory likes to aim […]
Read More3 of 5 in a series Laura Gregory Decisions, Decisions Thrashing or still weeping or carrying on unarmed or disarmed, silenced or willfully mute, deft or dull, a razor cuts either way. Laura Gregory likes to aim high.
Read More2 of 5 in a series Laura Gregory Imperative You understood when his smile said don’t poke holes in the boat and blame the river. Laura Gregory likes to aim high.
Read More1 of 5 in a series Laura Gregory When They Ask Why You Didn’t Stop Him You’ll want to explain how the alarm sounds like a dishwasher looping in the next room, hushing “not you, not you” and who would run from that, but why is a blade, a slap, a whip that cracks in […]
Read MoreLaura Gregory Labor It occurs to me after fifty-four hours when I’m kneeling on a flimsy hospital pillow with my cheek pressed into a vinyl chair that the two midwives sit side-by-side on the edge of the empty soaking tub chatting about their dogs with their ankles crossed because they don’t see anyone in need […]
Read MoreLaura Gregory Be Killing Sin Joshua slaughtered every captive and David severed Goliath’s head, but I wrap leftover brownies in foil and tuck them neatly into airtight tupperware to keep them fresh. Laura Gregory is pretty sure she’s not highbrow enough to write poetry, but she does it anyway.
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