Category Archives: Olds Sharon

I Could Not Tell by Sharon Olds

Posted on March 18, 2015 by Russell Boyle

I could not tell I had jumped off that bus, that bus in motion, with my child in my arms, because I did not know it. I believed my own story: I had fallen, or the bus had started up … Continue reading →

Posted in Olds Sharon | Tagged care, child, daughter, her life’s life in her hands, I Could Not Tell by Sharon Olds, I could not tell I had jumped off that bus, life, literature, living, luck, mother, near-death experience, parenthood, parenting, poem, poet, poetry, Russell Boyle, russellboyle.com, writing | 2 Comments

The Flurry by Sharon Olds

Posted on November 19, 2014 by Russell Boyle

When we talk about when to tell the kids, we are so together, so concentrated. I mutter, “I feel like a killer.” “I’m the killer”—taking my wrist—he says, holding it. He is sitting on the couch, the old indigo chintz … Continue reading →

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I Go Back to May 1937 by Sharon Olds

Posted on March 3, 2013 by Russell Boyle

I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges, I see my father strolling out under the ochre sandstone arch, the red tiles glinting like bent plates of blood behind his head, I see my mother with a … Continue reading →

Posted in Olds Sharon | Tagged confessional, I Go Back to May 1937 by Sharon Olds, I see them standing at the formal gates of their colleges, incest, poem, poet, poetry, Russell Boyle, russellboyle.com, sexual abuse, writing | 4 Comments

The Victims by Sharon Olds

Posted on October 7, 2012 by Russell Boyle

When Mother divorced you, we were glad. She took it and took it in silence, all those years and then kicked you out, suddenly, and her kids loved it. Then you were fired, and we grinned inside, the way people … Continue reading →

Posted in Olds Sharon | Tagged boyle-young, boyleyoung, favourite, poem, poetry, Russell Boyle, russellboyle, russellboyle.com, Sharon Olds, She took it and took it in silence, The Victims, we were glad, When Mother divorced you | Leave a comment

The Connoisseur of Slugs by Sharon Olds

Posted on August 29, 2012 by Russell Boyle

When I was a connoisseur of slugs I would part the ivy leaves, and look for the naked jelly of those cold bodies, translucent strangers glistening along the stones, slowly, their gelatinous bodies at my mercy. Made mostly of water, … Continue reading →

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