The Iceman – by Carol Folsom

 

In Bolzano, Italy
a 5,000 year old man
preserved by the frozen Alps

now lies in a museum
where the sun showers
pink and gold on the Dolomites

his corpse in a transparent cooler
dried and shrunk
like an overcooked chicken

61 tattoos
on his thigh
back, legs, wrist

tribal loyalty
or rites of initiation
or maybe just to beautify

art everlasting
a canvas of skin
a language
we still speak

 

 

 

Carol is an attorney in Jacksonville, Florida. Her work has appeared in Belle Reve Journal, Talking Writing, On the Veranda, Cradle Songs, Three Minus One, Everyday Fiction, and Flashlight Memories.

 

 

Alibi in ’65 – by Carol Folsom

 

I park the Valiant in a slant space
drop a dime in the meter
the back of my polka dot dress
clings with car sweat

squinting
hand cupping eyes
I jaywalk between
slow afternoon cars
the sun pounds
a nail in my temple
the scent of burning asphalt
car exhaust
a whiff of Nuway hotdog

Lerner’s dress shop
a shock of cold air
sweet dusting powder
I grab a size 8 blouse
from the sale rack
and pay

he’s waiting for me
just out of the shower
skin flushed warm
smelling of soap

I’ll be home by supper
show off my new blouse
hope it fits
the sale was final

 

 

 

Carol is an attorney in Jacksonville, Florida. Her work has appeared in Belle Reve Journal, Talking Writing, On the Veranda, Cradle Songs, Three Minus One, Everyday Fiction, and Flashlight Memories.