The poems are part of a series entitled Thin Bits of Evidence, which I wrote off of objects purchased at a thrift shop in Mandan, North Dakota. Our neighbor worked at this thrift shop, and he also set our house on fire. (Rather unsuccessfully, I'm glad to say.)
Further information about the reading and exhibit -
Deep Sea Jelly Candle, 30¢
Main Street, under construction, is suddenly underwater in an early morning dream. Waves drench signs for the fall election. The mayor almost died from heart failure last year, his daughter from cancer this summer. Now they coach sixth grade girls’ basketball. I love to watch them breathe. The rumor flies he is out on bail, but I walk to the store anyway. My partner keeps fixing the porch. Our daughter plays in her Halloween wig and everything moves a bit slow. I return home with canned sauerkraut and call the county jail. It is not true. See how we go on.
- from Thin Bits of Evidence by Julie Gard
