Lenore Weiss

I warmed my wings in a patch of sunshine. The ground below gave off a rotting smell, manure attracting flies. In the past, I would’ve been disgusted by my diet,

I flew from branch to branch until I found Ruby. “Stop making a racket,” she told me. “You’re scaring away my dinner.” I’d already searched through thick drifts of fallen

Whatever you do, don’t cash them in, not before floods melt margarine in the honeyed light of the last diamond setting. Atoms come in assorted sizes and pigeons coo in

My past was gone. Days blurred. I tore apart journals, ripped out one page at a time. People came to the house after the funeral and pretended to know me.

My eyes traced the ball’s path toward the goal. I heard and saw everything at once. A seagull cried. Its shadow floated along the field. The smell of fertilizer from

  I wanted to tell him none of my girlfriends would expect me to listen to them talk for a half hour non-stop unless someone in their family had just