Neighborhood Profiles
Rhienna Renée Guedry
One is the man I’ve seen hurling a
tennis ball against the walls of his own home

he once threw himself down on
our sidewalk to attract a crowd
while his bag of grocery store red apples







emptied and rolled
One is the woman who chatters by force
her mouth splayed open,
wide
for the dentist, an ear-pop on a plane
an exclamation point
she details her cardigan’s origin story, mends it
points to lime green vintage thread
One is shaped like an egg he walks
with his hands deep in brown pockets
strides
like a
metronome
keeps busy retrieving the
one item he forgot from the store, back
on the bus, pays the fare again like a new day
When two of our black cats turned up dead
the same day 
we suspected one, told none
Rhienna Renée Guedry is a writer and artist who found her way to the Pacific Northwest. Her work has been featured in Empty Mirror, HAD, Gigantic Sequins, Bitch Magazine, and elsewhere.
Originally published in Moss: Volume Six.
‹ |
Previous The Ground At My Feet, Ann Stinson |
Next Oakdale, Tim Greenup |
› |
