A Non-Fiction Triad: Alaska Here We Come

I first came across Adrienne Ross Scanlan’s poetry ten years or so ago when I was assistant editor at The Centrifugal Eye, a now defunct literary journal . Exactly which of Adrienne’s poems we published, I can’t recall—or even if we ended up with one of her works. I’m confident we did because, her writing

My Pet Anolis sagrei

Now to the body of this blog post–listen up for the next seven minutes! And take care out there!

I Feel your Pain

“What’s wrong with her?” my father might have asked. “Nothing. She’s just very sad about the dead raccoon,” my mother might have answered on any number of occasions when our 1960 Ford station wagon sped by roadside carnage, and I curled up in the back seat, whimpering, disconsolate. Same reaction on the beach during summer