If a girl ever drives three hours alone to a bar where she’s too young to buy beer, if she stands in the back in red lipstick watching the black, hammer-struck moon of your thumb as you play guitar, if she follows you home along a two-lane road over dead snakes and possum, […]
A young man walks toward the jukebox and I follow him because I’m tired of listening to the old man with a pocket of chew in his bottom lip slur his way through the same question again and again. Out the window, the water tower floats, a bloated fish ringed with red light. When we […]
I was trying to type encyclopedia but kept typing envy when I got to the part where my son sprawled on the bed, asking what’s a placenta? So we went to the envy envy encyclopedia, so helpfully literal, so un-open to interpretation. I remembered my own, or his, sliding out numbly, how a nurse caught […]
Henrietta Goodman offers some advice for young writers.
Henrietta Goodman reads two of her favorite poems, both by the late Canadian poet John Thompson.