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

Shifts by Pris Campbell

Shifts My husband shifts in the night and I wake, make up memories of what could have been between us had my health held – dancing through the house at midnight or reading sonnets by candlelight beside a dead poet’s Continue reading Shifts 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

Mid-life Scramble by Pris Campbell

Mid-life Scramble She pushes pins into a doll, lights candles, recites secret incantations to jinx the blond-haired floozy who ran off with her husband. Her best friend tells her it’s a mid-life crisis, but he could call the crisis line Continue reading Mid-life Scramble by Pris Campbell

Bobby’s Wish by Pris Campbell

Bobby’s Wish Robert E Lee, encased these long years in bronze hat a plop spot for pigeons, thinks of the dead men once under his command, worn down and hungry, sick of war and death, creeping home through the trees Continue reading Bobby’s Wish by Pris Campbell