Saturday, December 14, 2019

Disabled. By Susan Tepper


Your heart slipped 
through 
penetrating darkness
is disabled.
There’s no longer 
any room 
at the bar, around 
the fire— 
no one can see
too busy 
hoisting their own
to notice
the pus crusting 
your mouth/convenient
for warding off truth 
however simple
[you started out low]
seemed a good thing
what might come 
out of being human.




Susan Tepper is the author of eight published books of fiction and poetry. Her most recent book just out in June is a road novel titled “What Drives Men.” It was shortlisted at American Book Fest Best Book Awards. Other honors and awards include eighteen Pushcart Nominations, a Pulitzer Prize Nomination for the novel “What May Have Been” (Cervena Barva Press, and currently being adapted for the stage), NPR’s Selected Shorts Series, Second Place Winner in Story/South Million Writers Award, Best Story of 17 Years of Vestal Review, Shortlisted 7th in the Zoetrope Novel Contest (2003), Best of the Net and more. Tepper is a native New Yorker.

No comments:

Post a Comment

CIVIL DAWN By Dan O’Connell

When the sun is 6 degrees below the horizon  and there is enough light for objects to be distinguishable. Awake with the first dawn light as...