by Jennifer Landretti | Dec 1, 2022 | Essays
I hunch in the porch shadows, feeling for the rough side of my key. After a few exploratory taps, I ease the blade into the lock then turn to face the sky. At half past four in the morning, the stars are still out. They winkle in the branches. I begin my walk, about...
by Jennifer Landretti | Jul 4, 2022 | Songbook
Sometimes I go to Pine River to let go of what’s already gone skip stones by the rust of the sawmill as the water moves steadily on. The foam at the foot of the pilings goes round like a head of dark beer the trout must be drunk on the moment with no thoughts of...
by Jennifer Landretti | Feb 22, 2022 | Songbook
rosy morning watersbeneath a mangled moonthe bay that floats the bridgeI cross feels like a roomso blue where my emptiness ascendsand the long chain of hours will not benddrive on down the highwaywhiskey in my joemoving in my misery gets me through this blowthe world...
by Jennifer Landretti | Dec 5, 2021 | Songbook
Up where the rivers dividedeadwood shadows the starsfirelight shakes on my coatshowing the letters you wroteI miss what I have in my handsthe love so plainly therewriting itself into airI guess you told me soThe pines on the hills are knives in the nightslicing the...
by Jennifer Landretti | Feb 1, 2021 | Songbook
Spoken:It’s an unusual sight at the Wallflower ball where a band plays a waltz in a moonlit old hall. The floor is deserted, no couples at all just single folks dancing alongside the walls.What wonderful walls at the wallflower ball made of roses and violets and...
