ARTS AND ENTERTAINMENT
The Lush of Davis Avenue
tango down the street
The New Prostitution
The Photos Don't Say
The Dream of Spring
Dana Taylor's Funeral
See this game?
She hasn't spoken to her mother
since the accident: an immeasurable time,
an absence of slamming doors, raised voices.
She finding false refuge in implicit blame
And harbours her guilt in distant lands.
Yesterday, she wrote a letter to her mother.
Another to add to the pile of the unsent,
A terrifying monument to the unspoken,
A Miss Rosa Coldfield, cloistered in a dark room
for forty-three sultry summers and clinging
to a self-pity that has become her very life-blood.
her daughter will find these words in a bottom drawer
signed, sealed and undelivered.
And she will liberate them.