Trailer Park Quarterly V3




The Night Norman Mailer Made His Last Televised Speech

The clamerous hum of the B train
drowned what you said.

And we needed to buy detergent --
there was blood to be removed from sheets.

Sheets span in the wash,
apologies buried themselves in armpits.

The television went black,
virgin snow sat on the window ledge.




Amy Schreibman Walter was born in 1976 in sultry South Florida, to parents from the edge of Brooklyn. She currently lives in London, England, where she enjoys teaching 8-year-olds how to write good poetry, among other things. Presently studying at the Faber Poetry Academy in London, Amy teaches by day and writes by night.

TPQ3