Story by Jennifer Firestone Christmas25 and hot toddies

and hot toddies

Now they overflow into Angel Hill

What matters is that their words speak intimately

      Atlantic – now churning up an army of wild horses

Story by Jennifer Firestone Christmas25 and hot toddiesThere is a Story at a beach. There is a couple evolving and devolving inside a new fangled form of the couplet. There is the landscape: the ocean, sand, and sun that language flails in trying to recreate. The beach reached for them but slipped. The beach shells and sound. The beach the one syllable until soft. Story is a cryptic film, an old photograph, a mystery, where narrative, memory, truth, and trauma are interrogated, where creditability slips