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Married Cartoonists: The True Story

People assume married cartoonists are laughing all the time.

Me, Jodie Lynn Malone

I looked up how much everything would cost. Giving birth: $9,000.

Merry Elf

They’d developed Santa’s entire system, had written the code.

Mimesis

If you tear down the web it will simply know this isn’t a place to call home.

Miracle of Lights / Ode to My Imperfect Love

It was as the angel speaking of Isaac, a deception, a test to survive.

Miss Burma

All that existed was Louisa’s beauty—or Khin’s refashioning of it.

Miss Columbia Basin

Dad doesn’t believe I’m beauty queen material. I believe in myself.

Miss Harriet

I am going to relate to you the most lamentable love affair of my life.

Molten

Her body had become a scale, a device for measuring grief.

Motherland

She wags her index finger so furiously that I’m certain it will snap off.

Mother’s Night

She’s coming back, her arms full of the flowers I gave her once a year.

Mr. Schmeckler

It’s a girls’ college we’re going to, but all the guys know Polly’s name.

Mr. Thing

We all agreed we would evolve into something, a family of sorts.

Mrs. Fonss

Elinor had loved a man. The journey’s purpose was that she might forget.

Ms. Marmelstein

Ms. Marmelstein led with her eyelashes, curling out like scimitars.

Mumbai

We know of friends and relatives who have passed away, young and old.

My Black Spell and Other Poems

These days I watch the world go by and do not breathe life into it.

My Daughter and God

My wife had time to form a thought: I have killed my daughter.

My Father Quoting Shakespeare Late at Night

Then came “the sea of trouble” as he crumpled his bank statement.

My Father Was a Writer

Cruelty is cruelty and you don’t ask why, you just hit first and hit hard.

My First Story

They’re still there since they never grew old. The story is never finished.

My Grandmother’s Garden

I must never go to the garden without a heavy stick or a corn-knife.

My Milk

I keep dripping milk until I’m sitting in a pool of it, sticky, white. I can’t move.

Mysteries of Love and Grief

Narrative 10

Try never to repeat rhymes, not once in an entire show. It tires the ear.

Narrative 10

I’ve read this novel at various stages of my life and I feel as if I know Isabel.

Neonates

She knew Jim would be a terrible husband. They’d murder each other.

Nevada City, California, Aubade

I am desperate to love myself, to tolerate myself, vanity is fine.

Night Fishing

Anchored off Biscayne Bay my father’s wooden skiff swings easy.

Night Glow

Dad was blind until six months ago, when he bumped his head in the fire.