Poems by Marianna Pizzini Mankle
strikeout paint me a picture, but don’t use paint. instead, use the pizza grease and ketchup bottle of the local bowling alley to create your masterpiece. Better yet, suck it up and slip on those air-freshened shoes and bet on a game of ten simple frames. can’t do it? afraid you’ll lose? well, me too. […]
(de)Liberation, 1956
When the handsome young teacher of our split fourth and fifth-grade class had playground duty it never looked like duty. If he was on patrol, no one could tell. He would stroll around with apparent aimlessness with two girls under each long arm and holding the hands of a fifth and sixth girl who flanked […]