California birds were always chirping something in the background. One oleander leaf can kill you. So don’t eat it. Me and Bonnie, strumming guitars, trying to sing our teenage girl ways into the future. My voice quiet, not sure if everyone’s house held the same secrets, her voice wide as Ella’s, Your daddy’s rich and […]
Tag Archives: Lyndi Bell O’Laughlin
The Only Tear in Detroit by Lyndi Bell O’Laughlin
It’s a riot in there, the mind incarcerating itself with yarns, vivid festivals of nothing. It’s hard to resist the urge to fling a little chum in the water, a risky thought, say, or an unchained memory. Stand back and watch as pictures and words roil and foam, listen as they whisper to each other […]