as if they once had teeth, your hands
As if they once had teeth, your hands nibble on apples half mud, half worms –you eat only what falls to the ground rotted, serene, made dark by the welcoming slope into evening –you pick the way every stone points where to rest, has this urge to be useful, calms your arms still attached to the same mouth and milky breath, holding on –you share these twins with the sun stretching out on your forehead shining in its darkness from the start and in you arms the word for offering, for stillness,...
Read MoreWild Violet Featured Works: Week of Nov. 18 (Fighting The Man)
It’s easy to become frustrated with bureaucracy and institutions in their many forms. This week, Wild Violet’s contributors take a humorous, perceptive look at some of those frustrations. In Nancy S.M. Waldman’s short story, “Dirty Money,” a bank teller learns about an old lady’s deep, dark (and possibly illegal) financial secret. In Saul Greenblatt’s humor piece, “My Duffel Bag Tried to Kill Me,” a soldier in the process of being discharged battles military bureaucracy. In John Pyle’s essay, “Kafka and Cable,” he relays...
Read MoreKafka and Cable
Today I had a Kafkan experience. It is no longer the Count in the Castle who surrounds himself with so many maddening layers of bureaucracy. Now our “service providers” have done it. Or, to put it another way: corporations. Consider this: I call the cable company. Me: Yes, I couldn’t help noticing that my cable bill went up by twenty dollars in the last two months. Functionary: Yes, your two-year plan expired. Me: What can we do about this? Functionary: You could certainly take on an even higher bill, by adding services. Me: I don’t want those services. Functionary:...
Read MoreMy Duffel Bag Tried to Kill Me
This is the story of Joshua Greenleaf, a young man who spent three years, eight months, twenty seven days, and thirteen hours in the Army. He would tell you that the Army gave him a good education, helped him realize what he wanted to do with his life, and helped him grow and mature. Nevertheless, he hated the army. He appreciated what the Army did for him, but he could never adjust to being owned. While he was in the Army, in the back of his mind, there was always the thought that Lincoln freed the slaves, but forgot to free enlisted men. This is his story, a story that starts with a...
Read MoreDirty Money
“Ten fifty-dollar bills, please, dear.” The elderly woman, so short she could barely see over the counter, slid her bank card through the slot too slowly. Teller Wyndy Elkins smiled, took her card, and expertly glided it through. Maybe Wyndy was hungry, but her mouth salivated slightly as she noted that the customer’s outfit — a worn, caramel-colored cape with white fur lining. It reminded Wyndy of a cream-filled donut. The woman’s face seemed familiar, though Wyndy didn’t think she had waited on her before. The account appeared on her screen. Clare Cormer. Balance:...
Read MoreWild Violet Featured Works: Week of Nov. 11 (Life’s Journey)
As the weather grows colder and the holiday season nears, it’s a perfect time to reflect on life’s journey with this week’s contributors: Deborah H. Doolittle’s poem, “Pick a Path with Heart,” uses a fortune cookie as a springboard for contemplation. Matthew LaFreniere’s poem, “Dinner at Grandma’s,” provides a glimpse at a woman’s life through the objects she passes on to her grandson. John Grey’s poem, “Dialogue with Myself,” looks back at the moment of his birth to make sense of his place in his...
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