by Anniebelle Quattlebaum | Jun 2, 2020 | Galileo Press
Days of Summer Gone It’s too late to go back to that apartmentIn Bowling Green, Kentucky, where we slept togetherSo many nights. I wonder if whoever lives there nowAnd fucks in that bed ever wonders about us? If memory’s any good gauge, the placeMust be...
by Anniebelle Quattlebaum | May 6, 2020 | Galileo Press
The Distance As seen in Days of Summer Gone, Galileo Press, 1990 Two women are hugging each other goodbyeOn the sidewalk in the tree-shadowOf a late spring afternoon. It is notSexual, though both are beautiful.And though both are tall and litheUnder their dark hair,...
by Anniebelle Quattlebaum | Mar 18, 2020 | Galileo Press
The Horizon Has a Horrible Way of Disappearing “You probably weren’t going to get pregnant anyway.” He meant it to be reassuring but it was a horrible thing to hear—the finality of her husband’s statement. What was the point, after all, of...
by Anniebelle Quattlebaum | Feb 25, 2020 | Galileo Press
Man Stabbed in Heart Runs 3 Blocks Somebody died out there. Right there outside Morton’s window overlooking Georgetown across the Potomac where he and Emily will be moving this coming weekend into a $900-a-month townhouse that Emily claims they can well afford...
by Anniebelle Quattlebaum | Feb 18, 2020 | Galileo Press
This lunatic atom bomb has succeeded in rousing the people of all nations to the highest point of unanimous moral dudgeon; great numbers of persons are frightened who never really had much cause to be frightened before. This world has always been a desperately...
by Anniebelle Quattlebaum | Jan 17, 2020 | Galileo Press
First Two, Last Two is a game we play where we take the first two paragraphs and the last two paragraphs of a piece. A Friend’s Death He gets a disease and suffers from it and dies. Before that Kirt visits him in the hospital several times. Once when Chris went...
