Idra Novey

House Arrest

When punishment became a picture frame, the state gave our mother a glittering one and some picture wire so she could hover properly on the wall. Neighbors asked if this stillness had been in her before, if we poured our milk differently over our cereal with our mother always fixed there and  listening.

After weeks of such inquiries, we said enough and climbed in with her—why not be miserable together? For fun, we picked the glitter off her picture frame. Sometimes we ate it for dinner.




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"House Arrest" from Exit, Civilian (National Poetry Series, University of Georgia Press, 2012) reprinted with the permission of the author. All rights reserved.

 

 

 
 

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