The everyday iridescence counsels me to curb my tongue and avoid casual description. Most deadly are conversations shaped like expensive Cuban cigars. I stalk the long straight urban streets with clenched fists and a silence that if opportunity arose I’d smear like honey on the flanks of a lover I hadn’t met before. Neither friend nor foe appears to fill this role, so I duck into a doughnut shop I’ve haunted for sixty years, its facade unaltered, its stools as creaky as when they were first installed. The iridescence never trails me into this yellow-lit space where retired detectives rehash cases and drunks slowly sober up on coffee blacker than the Nile. The big windows, cleaned monthly, admit only innocent daylight, filtering out ghosts that otherwise would crowd out the living and drink all the coffee, leaving only the faintest trace of scum.
William Doreski lives in Peterborough, New Hampshire. He has taught at several colleges and universities. His most recent book of poetry isCloud Mountain(2024). He has published three critical studies, includingRobert Lowell’s Shifting Colors.His essays, poetry, fiction, and reviews have appeared in various journals.