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Home - Issue 2 - Doubles Click here for Issue 1
Coming Soon! Issue 3

 

Doubles In my youth, women often took me aside And told me I reminded them of A dead brother, an uncle, a late lover. Some of them wore beards. One lay with slashed wrists in a tub. Another of my doubles went for a walk And never came back from the woods. It was evening; it was long ago, of course. One played the piano beautifully So that strangers knocked on his door. The last time anyone saw me alive I was putting on a pair of dark glasses, Reading a Bible on a subway, Crossing a busy street in Paris Waving my arms and laughing to myself. Charles Simic

 
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