Five Points, Vol. 17, No. 1
Fall 2015From Andre Dubus III: "It really felt like rediscovering the fragments. So, that’s my advice. Just write the fragment. Make that fragment as whole as you can, because, guess what? It’s going to open the door to another one, and another one, and another one."
Sample Content
Heather Sellers
Homesick
After my father dies I rent
4A in Manhattan for three months.
I’d intended to pray, write,
stay, be bright.
In the summer apartment
three dresses—black
cotton, linen, knit—
hang in the great closet
not touching, lives
of their own making.
I don’t want
to go home, piles pressing,
my father’s ashes in a box
they said wasn’t permanent,
intended only for one mailing.
White walls, one desk,
chair, one pillow; life
on a single shelf.
I add food and myself.
But it’s a still life.
I could walk out of here
with everything
in my arms.