Throughout this course, we'll study the American landscape of our yard, coiled line of the garden hose, muddy furrows in the grass awaiting our analysis, what's called close reading of the ground. And somewhere something will yip in pain perhaps, a paw caught in a wire, or else the furred and oily yowling of desire. And flickering beyond the fence, we'll see the slatted lives of strangers. The light above a neighbor's porch will be a test of how we tolerate the half-illumination of uncertainty, a glow that's argument to shadow. Or if not that, we'll write an essay on the stutter of the bulb, the little glimmering that goes before the absolute of night. Copyright © 2017 Jehanne Dubrow. Used with permission of the author. |
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