Showing posts with label Subject - Lizzie Borden. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Subject - Lizzie Borden. Show all posts
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Day 21: pattinase
Michigan writer and Lineup #3 alum Patricia Abbott offers another look at "Eating Pears" by Kim Welliver on Day 21 of 30 Days of The 5-2.
Friday, April 12, 2013
Day 12: Process Press
Philadephia poet, performer, and publisher Aja Beech looks at "Eating Pears" by Kim Welliver on Day 12 of 30 Days of The 5-2.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Day 11: Nobody Move!
Investigator John DuMond ponders "The Death of Lizzie Borden" on Day 11 of 30 Days of The 5-2.
Monday, December 3, 2012
J. Rodney Karr
THE DEATH OF LIZZIE BORDEN
The Victorian clouds withdraw
off France Street and the sunset
becomes the color of The Great
War, not of decapitated pigeons
or pre-scrubbed wooden floors.
Her sister’s suspicion receded
like hairs. Only a few like fish
bones remain. Old. Memory
in her final fever slowly returns,
working backwards as pneumonia
takes hold: the trial, her blue dress
in the stove, the acid, the maid,
and someone naked with blood,
warm like the sun, but bleeding
from within. Her hand reaches out
to draw the blind down like a blade.
J. reads "The Death of Lizzie Borden":
Subscribe to Channel Five-Two for first view of new videos.
J. confesses: "I saw Elizabeth Montgomery play Lizzie Borden when I was a kid. It scared the crap out of me. Borden suddenly entered my thoughts again recently. I read a more detailed account of the murders and trial. I imagined how her sister felt years later. I think Borden did it, so I then imagined her dying while recounting the 'uncrime'."
J. RODNEY KARR has published in The Iowa Review, Hayden's Ferry Review and more recently in dirtcakes and the online journal Canary. He lives in Denmark.
The Victorian clouds withdraw
off France Street and the sunset
becomes the color of The Great
War, not of decapitated pigeons
or pre-scrubbed wooden floors.
Her sister’s suspicion receded
like hairs. Only a few like fish
bones remain. Old. Memory
in her final fever slowly returns,
working backwards as pneumonia
takes hold: the trial, her blue dress
in the stove, the acid, the maid,
and someone naked with blood,
warm like the sun, but bleeding
from within. Her hand reaches out
to draw the blind down like a blade.
J. reads "The Death of Lizzie Borden":
Subscribe to Channel Five-Two for first view of new videos.
J. confesses: "I saw Elizabeth Montgomery play Lizzie Borden when I was a kid. It scared the crap out of me. Borden suddenly entered my thoughts again recently. I read a more detailed account of the murders and trial. I imagined how her sister felt years later. I think Borden did it, so I then imagined her dying while recounting the 'uncrime'."
Monday, November 26, 2012
Kim Welliver
EATING PEARS
They glowed
moon-pale in the dim barn-light
The Fall River house was weighted,
freighted with heat:
a stale dusty scent
of submission, like wool or beeswax,
like vinegar rubbed
into window panes.
The pears were thin-skinned,
lush. I dug my teeth in.
Father, granite-eyed, said
"Lizzie, there is no problem
one can’t crush, if one
but has the will."
Juice streamed, and dripped,
dappled my face and throat.
The house was a flint cinder
beneath the eyelid.
A constant irritant
broken only
by bright flares
of pain.
The bottleflies, blue black noise,
came, drawn
to the sticky-rich spatter.
Carefully, I bathed,
then went in
to find
Father.
Kim reads "Eating Pears":
Subscribe to Channel Five-Two for first view of new videos.
Kim confesses: "I've always been fascinated by the Borden Mystery, mainly the minimal 13 minutes in which the murder of Andrew Borden took place, during which time Lizzie claims she was in the barn, eating pears. The dichotomy between the bloody slaughter and the innocuousness of eating pears intrigued me."
KIM WELLIVER has lived in Indiana, California and Utah. A bibliophile and mystery aficionado, much of her work touches on the darker aspects of life.
They glowed
moon-pale in the dim barn-light
The Fall River house was weighted,
freighted with heat:
a stale dusty scent
of submission, like wool or beeswax,
like vinegar rubbed
into window panes.
The pears were thin-skinned,
lush. I dug my teeth in.
Father, granite-eyed, said
"Lizzie, there is no problem
one can’t crush, if one
but has the will."
Juice streamed, and dripped,
dappled my face and throat.
The house was a flint cinder
beneath the eyelid.
A constant irritant
broken only
by bright flares
of pain.
The bottleflies, blue black noise,
came, drawn
to the sticky-rich spatter.
Carefully, I bathed,
then went in
to find
Father.
Kim reads "Eating Pears":
Subscribe to Channel Five-Two for first view of new videos.
Kim confesses: "I've always been fascinated by the Borden Mystery, mainly the minimal 13 minutes in which the murder of Andrew Borden took place, during which time Lizzie claims she was in the barn, eating pears. The dichotomy between the bloody slaughter and the innocuousness of eating pears intrigued me."
KIM WELLIVER has lived in Indiana, California and Utah. A bibliophile and mystery aficionado, much of her work touches on the darker aspects of life.
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