Spr/Sum 04

Subplot 3.


              The object looses ground when what I’ll call here “external path”               becomes into, becomes the voice of spirit that heats heat – swollen into               maternal causes, face upon face rising out of the


30. Fire

When he comes home I’m in the bedroom with the baby and our son is           watching Barney. On the table under tomato and onion is the fish           he cleaned the night before, dripping blood into the sink.

Quickly we eat, then quickly I am back upstairs to read: Mrs. Ramsay’s           death, Lily Briscoe’s need to paint, Mr. Ramsay’s gorgeous           self-pity. And the baby sleeps fitfully. I know she will wake.

The next morning I wash all the windows inside and out while she           watches me from the stroller. Pollen, dust, black ink from the           newspaper on my hands.


Julie Carr lives in Oakland, California where she is a pursuing a Ph.D. in English Literature from UC Berkeley. Her book MEAD: An Epithalamion is forthcoming from UC Georgia Press in the Fall. Other sections from MEAD are in recent or forthcoming issues of American Letters and Commentary, 3rd Bed, The Canary, Pool, Xantippe, and LIT.