When I Was Younger I Used To

When I Was Younger I Used To Lock Myself In The Bathroom And Read In The Dry Tub. I Was Also A Fan Of The 'shoe Closet.' Reading Felt Thrilling And Illicit And Deeply Private To Me, And I Felt Vulnerable Doing It In Public.

The Girl Has A Funny Way Of Romanticizing Things.

Pain Collected Into Deep Pockets And I Was Aware Of This Painbut Somehow I Could Not Seem To Feel It. It Was Like A Body-deafness.

My Fingers Curl Through The Holes In The Wicker, Through The Wet Grass Beneath It, Trying To Hold Tight To The Sharp Blades Of The Present. Somewhere In My Brain A Sinkhole Is Bubbling Over, And Each Bubble Contains A Scene From A Tiny Sunken World ... I Have Never Been The Prophet Of My Own Past Before. It Makes Me Wonder How The Healthy Dreamers Can Bear To Sleep At All, If Sleep Means That You Have To Peer Into That Sinkhole By Yourself. ... I Had Almost Forgotten This Occipital Sorrow, The Way You Are So Alone With The Things You See In Dreams.

Granana Doesn't Understand What The Big Deal Is. She Didn't Cry At Olivia's Funeral, And I Doubt She Even Remembers Olivia's Name. Granana Lost, Like, Ninety-two Million Kids In Childbirth. All Of Her Brothers Died In The War. She Survived The Depression By Stealing Radish Bulbs From Her Neighbors' Garden, And Fishing The Elms For Pigeons. Dad Likes To Remind Us Of This In A Grave Voice, As If It Explained Her Jaundiced Pitilessness: "boys. Your Grandmother Ate Pigeons."