Historic Fiction
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on the corner in market square
on the corner in market squarewhere the door opens into the black eaglethe weaver’s son become the printer’s devil regard how the inks on his four fingers and on his thumb dance on the lute strings pluckedby the inks on his other hand’s greeter and thumb regard but regard too much you’ll miss how his… Continue reading
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after i’d returned
after i’d returnedfrom the blood rugged floors of elsinorewhen those harvestedby poison on the foil’s bladeby poison in the wine gobletwith the crop of maggots plantedi returned to the varnishedoakwood of a classroom in the leucorea resumed my consumption of the germ of luther’s philosophyit sprouts in me still it sprouts outinto the sermon i… Continue reading
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the baker woman sells white loaves
the baker woman sells white loavesand loaves of rye and loaves of barley and oatsthe butcher’s boy sells pork scraps for stewand chickens and plucked caponsthe pedlar sells gold and alcohol andalchemy in jars of elixir from his cartgive them all to think you’re deafthen hear mrs kretschner ask if you wanta cup of ale Continue reading
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after i’d returned from elsinore
after i’d returned from elsinoreresumed my education learnedhow to write a sermon how to preachon one two day ride away from wittenbergon a horse old and lame and plodding takenfrom the university’s stable to ministerto a peasant village near zwickau from a path grooved through grass verticalgrain headed in the air and grass choppedhorizontal to… Continue reading
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go now from here to market square
go now from here to market squareevery week on my way to the black eagle the widow wittner and her sister startconversations with me they ask if there’s baptism on sundayor if it’s time for the lord’s supperi think they’d rather be wives than widowsshake your head when you meet themthen hurry your steps towardyesterday… Continue reading
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at the black eagle yesterday i met
at the black eagle yesterday i meta mercenary named kehrina soldier amputatedbelow the knee down to a beggara deserving beggaramputated from a cruel career downto holding his hand out for a kindnesshe brought old reports from ghent abandoned by the dutchstarved by the spaniardi bought tankards of beer for him to make the old news… Continue reading
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between that place
between that placewhen the light that litinto the specter of the deadking extinguishedand that place when that lightthat lit into that specter reignitedmarcellus leaneddown on his hands on the parapet peeredinto the horizontal abyss of the east i swearhe saw through a blind man’sdarkness that night like he sawthrough every horizonsaw all the way to… Continue reading
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i wrote leopold a letter
i wrote leopold a letterthe bishopric of passau is blacktrimmed with corded scarletwith scarlet buttons fastenedi asked that he abandon itasked that he wear insteadthe archduchy of austria golden silk with scarletand silver threads embroideredwith sleeves and a codpiece prominentyour plan to go to antwerpto sit and listen to nora play on her recorderto watch… Continue reading
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i’ve wondered if marcellus could look up
i’ve wondered if marcellus could look up see through cloud see through the sun see through the worlds that circledeach other like gladiators the pathsby which they circled see allall the way to where the hand wrote watchthe hand writehe never asked my thoughts saidhe knew they conspired evil Continue reading
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these are the january and the february hours after midnight
these are the january and the february hours after midnighther sleepless attendant opens the door to her bedchambersees by candlelight how nora’s body motionless on the bed’sbecome a row of mountains under snowdrifts of deep sheepskinin a dark cave embraced by white ribs her heart’s a beara bear that warms the ribs and is warmed… Continue reading
About Me
I have a day.
Jake's Flea Market 