Recent Posts - page 45

  • Not yet remembered

    By on • ( 23 )

    Then let it be like that, reduced to this: in the dark corner of some forgotten jacket, crumpled like a dead spider with its legs willy-nilly I will pull it out and hardly recognize it for what it was or… Read More ›

  • Testosterone in pink

    By on • ( 20 )

    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 ›

  • When someone great is gone

    By on • ( 29 )

    There is a dip in the yard where a large root sack rotted out a long time ago. It sunk more and more until we got nervous and had to call someone out to look at it. But it was… Read More ›

  • Remembering why

    By on • ( 8 )

    Why all the ice cream truck drivers in Philadelphia deal drugs. Why the dog looks like a coke addict with cat litter on her snout. Why the cottonwood blooms gather in clumps by the curbsides like snow. Why our kids… Read More ›

  • Memento

    By on • ( 12 )

    We are trying hard to belong here by collecting what we can, to remember where we’ve been.

  • But no urns

    By on • ( 12 )

    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 ›

  • PNW

    By on • ( 17 )

    We are in the backcountry Lewis and Clark style with natives and small pox and crows the size of canoes.

  • Feed

    By on • ( 25 )

    No one uses the dining room for dining, the dining room is a joke.

  • How soon is never

    By on • ( 24 )

    It’s sad when an artist you loved so much is still around when you sometimes wish they weren’t. But it’s easier to blame the creep you fell in love with than to take responsibility for your own decisions.

  • Promenade in green

    By on • ( 22 )

    In some ways the body was just an instrument, one you could play on a street corner for tips. And he had more body left than mind, more body left than soul.