Making It So by Pris Campbell

Making It So You had gone to Alexandria from Cairo with family and were resting on the soft grass while they explored. Someone took your picture. I used my graphics program to place a day moon above you. Your daughter Continue reading Making It So by Pris Campbell

Making Space by Pris Campbell

making space our house overflows with killed promises and I think of days when I still took kisses for granted like ‘amen’ at the end of a Sunday prayer or the purr of a cat when offered a nuzzle under Continue reading Making Space by Pris Campbell

explosions by Pris Campbell

explosions he walks from one space to another in his head, chambers one bullet into his gun, drives to woods not unlike those where he hunted as a boy, father beside him, life unfolding before him. his world has turned. Continue reading explosions by Pris Campbell

Invasions by Pris Campbell

Invasions Pearl long-legs her way into her teens in her la de da, Jesus Saves, southern hometown. She doesn’t fit into the who said what or who got drunk world of her classmates, reads Sartre in her spare time. She Continue reading Invasions by Pris Campbell

Bedtime Stories of a Different Kind by Pris Campbell

Bedtime Stories of a Different Kind Those memories that fly up in your face… Like a swift punch in the gut. Like the yelp of a hurt dog. A chance glimpse of an aging photo or a way a man Continue reading Bedtime Stories of a Different Kind by Pris Campbell

Freeze Out by Pris Campbell

Freeze Out Baby it’s cold outside, Bing sings on the radio. I’m enjoying these kisses, these warm, loving caresses, but Santa soars low overhead with Rudolph red-flashing Stop! Stop! on this seductively frigid night. Obediently, I rush from my man’s Continue reading Freeze Out by Pris Campbell

The Last Standing Indians by Pris Campbell

The Last Standing Indians I read about Indians in grade school, all of them scalpers and killers, my history books said, except for Tonto, the Lone Ranger’s faithful companion. I knew about Tonto through radio. My second husband was one-fourth Continue reading The Last Standing Indians by Pris Campbell