Melancholy Hyperbole

Poetry about longing.

Tag Archive for ‘Amy Burns’


I like to look at photographs of Audrey. Even the last one where she stands in the backyard on Paulson Drive. She holds a basket of mushrooms. She explains the underbelly of a large cap: fawn-coloured gills for breathing in burning buildings, curled lip-rim for keeping cups and saucers in place on high seas, cork-filled trunk for stoppering bottles of honeysuckle milk or bottles of watermelon wine. I like to […]

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