School days meant up-before-dawn, carpools across town, tuna-sandwiches and rotting bananas shoved in brown paper sacks. Then home by bus – exhaust, the stench of
The house is brand new and we move in without our mother, who is in the hospital getting our new baby. There are three floors
Much planning involved in duplicity, when absence of feminine is intent – no amount of research can release her, buried in a home within a
Formative years were more destruct than construct; contradictions riddled the foundation of our familial structure: one man tyrannized five females while in the news, women
Found an old diary – days when I prayed to the angels, painted myself white, believed in a God that cared about personal forever after
Reminds me of home – Dad’s drinking, dressing up, keeping up appearances; a woman without a voice, public persona all important: must disguise private hell.