Caroline Wilkinson’s poetry and hybrid work have appeared or are forthcoming in Witness, Fourteen Hills, and Asheville Poetry Review. She lives and teaches in Maine. More links to her work can be found at www.carolinewilkinson.com.
The agreement takes place between the host—a location— and a business that leaves mercury and lead, perhaps, the agreement preceding the construction of a factory. A set sum and a guess of what will happen when the plant opens are accepted. One host, my old home, agreed to “no visible plumes” but got three. On a clear day— or not—the… Read more →
Sequined gowns fit when I was young, their sparkles stitched from TV static. Sheets draped the skin when TV went off for the night or the set broke. TV does not go off ever anymore. But I can’t watch it or the night’s middle pressed against my own. The tree in the window makes me turn to Paradise. That’s the… Read more →