Monthly Archives: May 2013

Song for summer

The morning is damp Constellation of birdsong Punctuation by frog, by crow The Earth bends on itself and we grab hold: our feet to the sky, hair to the ground, stomachs in our chest There is surf, seagulls, the sound … Continue reading

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Writing, building

Writers need to be editors but the reverse is not true. What you write won’t make it to a real editor unless you’ve edited it first. Toggling between writing and editing requires both parts of the brain: the mystical part, … Continue reading

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Scene From A Window Not Seen

Old man with curly hair, thick glasses, Mercedes. We play with the hood ornament on the Mercedes: it bends back, then stands up again. He watches us from the window. Wiffle ball in the courtyard, summer. He calls down to … Continue reading

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No Gift Should Go Unthanked

The book is on my chest face-down like a dead bird, a lowercase W, a child’s sketch. The picture of the author on the back, a UPC code only computers can read. A postage stamp I used as a bookmark … Continue reading

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Feeling real, really feeling

Life happens with or without you. When I struggle to write because the ideas don’t come, it’s how I’m seeing life that needs to change. In 1985, I got a job at the Allentown Fair. I worked inside a large … Continue reading

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Bloodshot, Crow’s Feet, Fingernail Moons

I got sick at the campsite. Drew scooped it up with one hand and threw it in the fire before his dog could eat it. It made a hissing sound and sparks, my last memory that night. We tripped out … Continue reading

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Going Back to Hell (End)

Dora the server wears a black vest, bow-tie, thick eye-liner, doesn’t focus right with the one eye: she looks behind me, somewhere. She says how did you know I’m Greek, and I say because your name tag says THEODORA. I … Continue reading

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