On Saturday Night My Brother and I Go to the Auction

By Cindy Beebe Poetry

We frequent the one where there will be the auctioneer who is predisposed toward hats, who is wearing a red fez tonight while I am not bidding on the stuffed mink cemented to a wooden board, or the colorful antique lard can. I never buy anything except nachos in the back which is when the…

Read More

Access one piece of artwork every month for free! To experience the full archive, log in or subscribe.

Pin It on Pinterest