This shirt is salmon pink, a new, tight-fitting shirt for a man. A man bold enough for pink, for a stiff collar and a tight weave. Who conceals the limp from his plantar fasciitis on his way across the grocery… Read More ›
poetry
But no urns
Mid-morning naps by the window with my hands clasped. The clocks and dog beside me, clouds kneading the sun. This is the way they’d try to make me look, peaceful and serene, flowers by the entryway, a boxful of tissues,… Read More ›
Feed
No one uses the dining room for dining, the dining room is a joke.
Life after Homeland
How could life ever be the same now that we’ve finished eight seasons of this Showtime original featuring Mandy Patinkin as Saul Berensonand Claire Danes as the unpredictable Carrie Mathison.We’ve pored through the evils of this worldforeign and domestic and… Read More ›
Meditation on a sun break
All this new shrub I planted needs is light and rain to take root. Good soil. And so it pours through me too and that’s all I need to make my own flowers or fruit, what we use to create…. Read More ›
The week of my life
It is just another Wednesday. Not a manic Monday but a day to connect other days, a waiting room, a tunnel. Down we go the slide of days to the bottom, back the metal rungs to the top. Half way… Read More ›
Before there were selfies we just had ourselves
One by one they led us to a room with a stool and a camera and a blank screen. And took a DNA sample of our souls for a square in a frame to disperse on the winds. And that… Read More ›
Mimicry
I had to go back to where I was from. The beach, where the forest meets the ocean and the river lets in. In that golden autumn we were all forgotten. I hung my shirt on the back of my… Read More ›
Reckoning
It is uncommon and natural at the same time. In that bleak no tomorrow of only today the rain returns with a familiar slap. The languid tones play out. Reckonings, a stutter-step forward like some dream we’re a part of,… 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 ›
