Fall 1992 • Vol. XIV No. 4 Poetry |

Character

The alchemists sweated to change lead to gold. My sister turned diamond into glass. With her friends she followed step for step their schoolmate of the charm bracelet, tiny silver heart with glittering inset. Scuff on pavement, flock of saddle shoes, and quick voices: Monica's the biggest liar in class. Says she wears diamonds, but they're only glass. No jeweler could have proved them wrong, no test for the veracity of objects. That was the year of plastic x-ray glasses buried in cereal boxes. The story went, the CIA had tried to use this to smuggle the real item to someone undercover, but along the way there was a slipup. That box found a place on the assembly line, traveled across country on train and delivery truck, crate and wheeled cart, to the one shelf where it waited anonymous with others. It was the mother of a fifth grade boy who bought it. Next day, Sister Thomas Aquinas caught him peering at her through the thick glass, seeking a glimpse of nunnish underwear. Into her de

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Milk

By Claire Bateman

The alchemists sweated to change lead to gold. My sister turned diamond into glass. With her friends she followed step for step their schoolmate of the charm bracelet, tiny silver […]

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