Reviewed by Grace Bauer Spoiler alert! Patricia Clark’s Self Portrait with a Million Dollars is not a book about a poet winning the lottery.
It’s the one about the insomniac fortuneteller huffing down snowy streets, professing premonitions to the headless mannequins in the tombstone-storefronts. I’ve been roaming the
It takes me no time at all to make the shadow spread like a carpet. I am the advancing sea, the embers left by
Despite their best efforts, a pair of young bluebirds aren’t succeeding with their first nest. They’ve chosen a house my husband built for others: