David Appelbaum

Dale Champlin, Drucillas Moth, Collage, 2021 The Wartime Park*   The fountain. The fountain. I, a flying fish, mouth agape, skimming waves. My father, back from combat, had no furlough. He raced a ghost that tripped on headstones. It was war. Park trees were pruned military-style. An old man sat on one bench playing solitaire. […]