How tiring it was for the women, his constant talking at them, the axioms, the unasked for advice. Even the queen was lectured to, told …
Enter King by Joseph Mills
She doesn’t know why he looks familiar until, as he does a soliloquy, she realizes he had tried to sell her a used Taurus last …
Ferdinand and Miranda Playing at Chess by Joseph Mills
After he again professes his love and swears he will always protect her, she tells …
Enter Ophelia by Joseph Mills
Her nightstand has piles of notebooks that she has filled with lists: of presents she might send him while he’s at Wittenberg, of who would …
Here by Joseph Mills
Where are you from? my children are asked not because of how they talk, or how they look, but how we look with one another, …
My Daughter Continues To Be Annoyed By George Washington by Joseph Mills
A plaque on the Salem Tavern says, “George Washington slept here.” It’s true, it’s well documented, and my daughter doesn’t care. She’s not a fan. …
Questions by Joseph Mills
On the Interstate, my daughter tells me she only has two questions. I’m relieved because she usually has two hundred. I say, Okay, let’s have …
Birth Poems by Joseph Mills
The 1799 birth certificate has a poem in its design. We read it, admire the art, and then my daughter asks, “Daddy, what’s my birth …
Enter the Queen with her hair about her ears by Joseph Mills
In second grade, she cut her hair, taking the blunt art class scissors and squeezing off a thick lock in the middle of her forehead. …