Wish You Were Here
Lenore Weiss
07/30/2012
Idiot boss man who sat me down two weeks after my husband died and told me how I was a fuckup, I can see your fat face floating in Istanbul’s Basilica
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Idiot boss man who sat me down two weeks after my husband died and told me how I was a fuckup, I can see your fat face floating in Istanbul’s Basilica
Missing breakfast, I ventured downstairs to Kybele’s cafe in the hope of scoring coffee, treated to the same plus an amazing fruit platter of halved apricots, sweet and sour to
Somewhere I lost a day. After being rescued from Ataturk Airport, I drifted in the street like a satrap exhausted by conquest of the Atlantic Ocean. I did what anyone
Women on the plane wore head scarves, others neck pillows, shoes from all over the mall. The only constant was the omnipresence of cellphones and iPads, clusters of people gathered
Starched white suit, he wears an olive oil can crown on his head, carries challah as a scepter, a scepter mixes seeds blown from a thistle rubbed on the honey
Books UPS taped and labeled, my proxy before I landed in Shreveport where a shunned bullet path stuttered like a roman candle, and a bag of chips fell from a