Spring 2012 – Michigan Quarterly Review

Spring 2012

“A Drunkard’s Walk,” by Gerald Shapiro

fiction by Gerald Shapiro

His name tag said “Sherman Lampert (Barbara Rossovsky).” People were looking at him like he had two heads. Probably half of them thought he’d had a sex change operation. He’d be glad to go along with the idea if it would save him from anyone’s clucks of sympathy, the whole “Oh, you poor man” spiel he’d heard a thousand times (and that wasn’t much of an exaggeration) over the past eleven months. Enough, enough already with “I can just imagine the pain you’re in,” because the fact was, even he couldn’t imagine the pain he was in, and the thought that someone else might presume to understand it made Lampert almost giddy with contempt. He’d moved to a foreign country, the land of grief, and had burned his ships upon arrival, like one of the old Spanish conquistadors.

His children had advised him not to come to this high school reunion, and who could blame them? “It wasn’t your high school, Dad,” his daughter Franci told him. She spoke to him as if he had dementia.

“A Drunkard’s Walk,” by Gerald Shapiro Read More »

fiction by Gerald Shapiro

His name tag said “Sherman Lampert (Barbara Rossovsky).” People were looking at him like he had two heads. Probably half of them thought he’d had a sex change operation. He’d be glad to go along with the idea if it would save him from anyone’s clucks of sympathy, the whole “Oh, you poor man” spiel he’d heard a thousand times (and that wasn’t much of an exaggeration) over the past eleven months. Enough, enough already with “I can just imagine the pain you’re in,” because the fact was, even he couldn’t imagine the pain he was in, and the thought that someone else might presume to understand it made Lampert almost giddy with contempt. He’d moved to a foreign country, the land of grief, and had burned his ships upon arrival, like one of the old Spanish conquistadors.

His children had advised him not to come to this high school reunion, and who could blame them? “It wasn’t your high school, Dad,” his daughter Franci told him. She spoke to him as if he had dementia.

MQR 51:2 | Spring 2012

Andrew H. Miller on Virginia Woolf, Adam Regn Arvidson on the nineteenth-century surveying of the prairie and what remains, Amy Boesky on a middle-school girl’s summer (it’s a jungle out there)

Poetry by H. L. Hix, Jack Ridl, Dennis Schmitz, Bern Mulvey, Dan Gerber, Melissa Stein, Kirun Kapur

Fiction by Gerald Shapiro, Jane Gillette, Jane E. Martin, Michael B. Yang, Elizabeth Kadetsky

MQR 51:2 | Spring 2012 Read More »

Andrew H. Miller on Virginia Woolf, Adam Regn Arvidson on the nineteenth-century surveying of the prairie and what remains, Amy Boesky on a middle-school girl’s summer (it’s a jungle out there)

Poetry by H. L. Hix, Jack Ridl, Dennis Schmitz, Bern Mulvey, Dan Gerber, Melissa Stein, Kirun Kapur

Fiction by Gerald Shapiro, Jane Gillette, Jane E. Martin, Michael B. Yang, Elizabeth Kadetsky

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