An excerpt from Carol Novak’s unique and fantastical collection, Giraffes In Hiding – The Mythical Memoirs of Carol Novak:
“He frightened me when he clasped me to him in the night, when he lowered the volume of his voice to speak of the mirage of walls and roofs. Not so long ago, he seemed to be my des- tination. He was mine and I was his or so it seemed. After an orgy of mirrors, we sucked and picked at one another’s bones. Then he strayed into that other woman’s residence and stayed too long, I took the turn back to where I’d been going, but couldn’t find it. Pain was my map; I could hardly see clearly.
So I found you hiding in a hedge with thorns, not crying but chanting, no, singing, singing a lament to your mother; you crooned, wanting to crawl back into her, so I came and stroked your head. I remember your hair as soft as dandelion puffs and you trembled but kept still for a spell entranced you let me be your home. And then like flotsam, you floated away, you with your eyes dense with storms. I carried on, tore off my red dress, taunted you. Who can stay still? Who can remain in homes with so many rules? you pleaded. I left that town a long time ago, I answered. At least I thought I did. You looked like a rabbit in a wolf’s yellow eye. All homes have rules, you said. You said I am a nomad. I have no choice. You do, I replied, drawing you into me for the last time, feeling like the rabbit in your jaws. But was I the wolf? Now I have forgotten your name.”
You can read my full review at PANK here.