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"Becky Becky Becky." That was the song that Pat Altman wrote for her. He would bang on his cheap acoustic guitar and scream her name from beneath her window. Pat Altman was very Irish. His parents emigrated from somewhere in Ireland. I never knew where. I knew he and his sister were born in America. I knew his father had a temper, his mother was overprotective,

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Posted by Edna Stinowski on May 4th, 2008 at 11:44am — No Comments (Add)

they're all about you

1992

Becky was the youngest. She was textbook youngest child. I flip through my yearbook and find her thumbnail picture. Her class picture is the only one of her any given year. She had great hair, brace-corrected teeth, and a closet full of clothes that made her look like an actual girl, not like androgynous punk-grunge that the rest of us had become. To this day, I still admire other people's clothes more than my own. I always wish I had "those p…

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Posted by Edna Stinowski on May 3rd, 2008 at 6:30am — No Comments (Add)

nurse asks question

"did i even know her there?"
there was a tiny bubble.
living inside of us as we ripped open immeasurably into other bubbles
rising from the bottom
a tiny don ho bubble
sticky with constituents
that we moleculed together
stitched with thick yarn
and pipe cleaners
we were unimportant
but together, stuck with cheap glue and tinkertoys and feathers
sti

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Posted by Edna Stinowski on May 2nd, 2008 at 6:30am — No Comments (Add)