by Heidi Fischbach | Oct 19, 2015 | Once upon..., Poetry HF
Lonesome? Pull up a chair. This is for you. Everyone knows the alone in the cafeteria feeling. Even people who never sat alone in the cafeteria know the alone in the cafeteria feeling. You sit down. You open your brown paper bag hoping your mom didn’t go too... by Heidi Fischbach | Jul 9, 2012 | Once upon..., Poetry HF
Your mom in rollers answers the back door and I ask are you home and she says sure darling and then calls your name long and loud up the stairs I wait It’s going to be a hot one she says to me and scratches under a roller why don’t you come in and have a glass of ice... by Heidi Fischbach | Sep 1, 2010 | Poetry HF
We arrived when the tide was turning, pulling upher hem like a mother who’d never once forgottenshe was a woman first and always. I went down to her edge, surely just to my ankles, I thought,but she lapped my legs and clapped her bawdy castanetson sand bars ever... by Heidi Fischbach | Apr 6, 2010 | Poetry HF
April is National Poetry Month. This one’s been brewing for months. It’s getting there. What Wants Saying Merchants of luxury trade in securities back and forth and up and down the walled streets of restless minds, selling lies of commission, omission, and... by Heidi Fischbach | Feb 25, 2010 | Poetry HF
I got myself an itty bitty mortar ‘n’ pestle, a present for the hard stuff to get to the sweet stuff inside things like a vanilla bean and a cardamom pod and a restless, tired mind, which I crushed and added to a sexy Bosc pear sauteing it all on low flame... by Heidi Fischbach | Nov 3, 2009 | Poetry HF
Yesterday’s wind, it took things with it, The leaves, for one. Another month, for two. For three, some threadbare fantasies. But it left a near-full moon and rolled out a red carpet to where I do not know. (1 Nov....
