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Rio Grande
Posted on September 3, 2014 2 Comments
Irreparably, autumn deposits itself onto the last days of summer, ombre strands still flying stubbornly, unevenly. Inseparably. Tinged with the imminence of next summer, overwashed neon letters peel and hang ungracefully, yet refulgent, from see-through tops. Shorts, tighter now, look seat-worn, even up against the distance of a cloudless, color-blocked blue sky. Two tiny girls […]
Manhattan Has No Safeways
Posted on June 24, 2014 Leave a Comment
On the cliffs of the Palisades, it is never sure whether what is heard is the sound – or the unsound. Thunder or the blasting of rock. The rumbles are low, and often dimly-sensed in the background of an empty morning’s distance, the growling stomach of a half-starved afternoon, brimming with bare truths. Truths which […]
The Middle
Posted on June 19, 2014 2 Comments
Having it both ways, manic agitation glides into an obligatory forced dichotomy of thought. A quivering bipolar blanket of murky gleam and glisten suspending a sightless surge. Above a muddy underline, an urge of plainly brown tide shades before the undertow out ahead of a broken wave, anticipating the impending draw. Contrary? If you must […]
Opening Day
Posted on June 5, 2014 Leave a Comment
The shore’s greatest stretch is what they called it – the sport of kings – which I knew it wasn’t and took for bullshit. An excuse to be in the sun on a weekday afternoon an inch away from the beach in spectators, handicapping behind the paddock, is what it was. – Pick a horse […]
The Slumber Party
Posted on June 3, 2014 Leave a Comment
On a Friday night in June, we rounded the corner past the elevators, floors thick with dented wax and walls thick with beige over blue over beige over blue. There’s a minor blaze to keep us on our toes, said a nurse whose edgy bucktoothed laughter guided her in step with an empty wheelchair. And […]
I Have Created Myself
Posted on May 28, 2014 Leave a Comment
On the day the bird takes flight, all will be the same. A dreary, lint-colored felt will serve as a swath of sky, paring itself into small circles of blue dreams from which desperation will seep, then pour – and finally inundate beneath. But there will be no harbingers to precede or even tardily accompany […]
At Fred’s
Posted on May 22, 2014 Leave a Comment
Sitting below the tin sunshine of morning, they are all for themselves on the vinyl swivels of impending gossip, the backs of shared misfortune. Cups of milky tea, stringed labels Lipton-bright dangled amid crumbs and crumpled sugar packets. The greenish-hued Princess Pseudomona reigns, and her ear-bent court of retirees ne’er-do-wells braggarts circumspectly defer, awaiting the […]
The Happy Hour
Posted on May 14, 2014 Leave a Comment
Cocktails FOR SALE is what it says. Underneath the ‘FOR SALE’ are fragmented black letters, dissimilar in size, chipped and discolored to almost grey (not gray). -Buy 8 get 1 free- We’ll buy them and drink them. Carefully placed, you believe, are those letters on the sign, crooked and hanging, the first ‘l’ dangling into […]
Tin Ceiling
Posted on March 27, 2014 Leave a Comment
I am no storyteller – yet I tell myself this story endlessly. The lights in the evening windows are truths gloaming and tell again of a place, where underneath the geometry of a tin ceiling – before over-painting and time muted its sharp lines – the smallest is there, a composite of a coming supernova, […]
Factory of the Elite
Posted on March 25, 2014 Leave a Comment
Fatal lip gloss girls pucker self-conscious memories in a deep twisted taste of twinkling blush. Sinking that tooth in my bottom lip, fighting those tears of exhausting expectations harbored for mere mortals like myself, in the hollow trench sloshes astringent acceptance of standards inhumanely high -too high indeed- even unattainable, for the awkward and ill […]
A Girl by the Bridge 
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