- My Father’s Mansion
We were adolescents, after school. We prowled the grounds of an abandoned mansion. It was a museum devoted entirely to our empty dreams. Except that we were simply, still, golden, steaming shapes against the snow, and then the green. And this abandoned mansion was the mind, exposed, like the guts and excrement of an animal in the road. The pear tree had gone crazy. The one carp in the pond had starved. A boy I loved climbed onto the roof of the mansion and pounded on his chest. He shouted down, "I'm King Kong!" and then, thinking even harder about the situation we were in, shouted even louder, "No. I'm God!"
Laura Kasischke has published six collections of poetry (most recently Gardening in the Dark, Ausable Press, 2004) and four novels (most recently Be Mine, Harcourt, 2007). Her work has appeared in American Poetry Review, Poetry, The New Republic, Ploughshares, the Iowa Review and elsewhere. She teaches at the University of Michigan and lives in Chelsea, Michigan.