A Man Belongs to Women by Gladwell Pamba
Even though she was out of the streets, she didn’t trust man nor nature to care for a child
Recently Published
I no longer harangue every desk nurse at every hospital for a taxonomic breakdown of her bills. I don’t ask for the numbers of the Benadryl, the water cups, the abdominal touches done with gloved hands. I am the most American I’ve ever been—she costs what she costs and I eat it.
Even though she was out of the streets, she didn’t trust man nor nature to care for a child
When that car rolled out of the darkness, there were four people there, watching it come.
I measure him, balancing the ruler smoothly upon his godless tonsure.
She wears shoulder and arm guards for the dripping wax, but very often drapery, wallpaper, cabinets catch on fire.