A Sort of Security Blanket
by Stephanie Kilen
December 13, 2006
It is the way the curtains are lifted by the breeze
the way they sigh like big bloused women who know something
It is their only purpose
that, and the 4 o'clock light
drenching the room in a sort of sweatv making us feel transparent
I imagine it will feel the same way when we are old
how could it change, really?
this karmic scene
played over and over
punctuated by street noise and your exhales
blushing my cheeks and painting my eyelashes
About the author:
I am a writer living in the Washington Heights neighborhood of Milwaukee, which is like a diverse, urban Lake Wobegon with an edge (because we live so close to each other and not many people hang curtains). I have written everything from newspaper articles on the annual racoon dinner to books on nursing home leadership reform. I have recently gotten back to poetry after recovering from the embarrassment of reading my own teenage angst poems. I live with my husband/co-conspirator and our fox hound/lab, the Bear, who is never more than three feet from my side.
Sponsor
Sponsor
An Interview with Heather Masse
In a 2009 interview, Heather Masse tells us about her earliest influences, auditioning in a women's bathroom, and a few memorable moments from A Prairie Home Companion.
Old Sweet Songs: A Prairie Home Companion 1974-1976
Lovingly selected from the earliest archives of A Prairie Home Companion, this heirloom collection represents the music from earliest years of the now legendary show: 1974–1976. With songs and tunes from jazz pianist Butch Thompson, mandolin maestro Peter Ostroushko, Dakota Dave Hull and the first house band, The Powdermilk Biscuit Band (Adam Granger, Bob Douglas and Mary DuShane).
