Tree Houses that We Built

truly the third operation? Will the crowns twinkle? What transmission, by word of mouth, or mouth to mouth, might have transpired? Will the teeth, radiant adapts, asteriated, smilingly impart some secret of the heavens received through goldpost antennas? What flowery speech incisive or insightful might come from a mouth full of hot stars? —Jan Willoughby Tree Houses that We Built Joey's toes spread on the limb with each hammer swing— with each blow that incorrigible old hickory bore, absorbed— while Allison's utterly subject and available body lay bathing, bony and collapsing, in the close late July sun, unmoved against snipping strains of Madonna. A cat scream. A wasp sting. A cuss word. Old Lock-C road curved and slid into summer like a dull shedding snake chasing a chicken. Joey's dead toes remember neither the hammer nor the utterly subject and available body. —Taylor Hagood 111 ...