The first thing I had to do was quit drinking. I’d left my job, moved to Europe and stopped doing yoga. There was no congruence between doing yoga and getting drunk. One was a union of body and mind, the… Read More ›
identity
Winter’s Playground
We are in Michael’s boyfriend’s apartment getting into Michael’s boyfriend’s bag. Michael is gay before anyone else in Pittsburgh. He wears scarves and earrings and looks beautiful but doesn’t act like a priss. People talk behind his back but he doesn’t care because he’s not insecure, it’s just who he is.
Laughing in tune
Those petty, pernicious forms of hatred were woven into the fabric of our upbringing. Though my parents did their best to undo it we learned cruelty early on, it was in our DNA, and there was always someone to make fun of or put down to make us feel more powerful.
Funny how the circle is a wheel
I started talking to someone again, and made plans to FaceTime her at 4. We hadn’t talked since last summer so she asked, how’s it going with your family, with the pandemic? I said it feels like the wheels have… Read More ›
Something I learned today
At the back of the property the blackberry vines were advancing but the fruit was anemic and as I sampled it there was deer scat in the grass and fruit flies that made me feel uneasy. I went back once… Read More ›
Damn good address for a rat
But for the crows it’s quiet on my walk to the lake. The clouds make it glum with the lawns going brown and the leaves coming down. I jump the gun with fall, my favorite season (the first half). In… Read More ›
Twilight gazing
At night the light through our bedroom window is a deep blue and the fan blows by the dog’s bed, and I think most times I don’t realize how good we’ve got it. There’s the skylight with the pole I… Read More ›
That feel
I sat waiting for it with my eyes closed. I heard the music from upstairs mix with the sounds of my own music. I chewed the ends of my mustache and saw the pattern of grass and how it looked… Read More ›
Face ID
The reflection throws back a version of myself that’s real but see-through The gray light of day. The pattern of squares across my window pane. The sound of a record from another time projecting me backwards and setting me down… Read More ›
All these ironies we never asked for
The night settled in and we filled the valley with our campfire smoke. It plumed out blue making the hillsides misty like we were somewhere far away in the bush, just me and Neil Young, his guitar and harp.
