Archives
Cool Grandma
Posted on February 15, 2015 1 Comment
Sometimes the people you least expect to emulate are those you become in life. It kind of sneaks up on you. Like when you’re walking out of church on a Sunday morning and you mutter, “Where the hell are my keys?” as you cross yourself with holy water. Or you realize the dusty pile of […]
A Winter to Live
Posted on February 11, 2015 2 Comments
I’ve said it a bunch of times: I believe the universe is not accidental. There are those who’ve argued with me that, perhaps, I ascribe meaning to events in order to create an orderly pattern where one truly doesn’t exist. Don’t we all merely connect the dots of our lives meaningfully in hindsight? It’s a […]
Thirteen Ways of Looking at a Hostage (For Kayla)
Posted on February 10, 2015 2 Comments
I Among seventeen anxious months, The only constant thought Was of the life of the hostage. II We are of one reflection, Like the prisoner For which there is proof of life. III The hostage whirled in peaceful endeavors. It was a small part of the pantomime. IV Sand and stone Are one. Sand and […]
Early Dismissal
Posted on February 9, 2015 3 Comments
“Keep the wipers up,” he says – I do – and yet the ice still collects to glaze my windshield, later my mittens glue. Standing wipers visible through the window’s haze, he calls to remind me warmly that this sleet will soon change to snow. “Remember to wear your hat,” he repeats, as I interrupt […]
Plush Plight
Posted on January 30, 2015 Leave a Comment
A light layer of dust may coat my eyes, but I still see you haven’t been here, and I wonder where you’ve gone. The dust cakes the crevices of your wheelchair, but I’m still soft, you know, willing to console you here on the foot of the bed, my untied sneaker dangling, my shirt neck […]
Penn Bound
Posted on January 20, 2015 Leave a Comment
I always look to your window – blurred with dirt as we depart abruptly. Eyes disoriented by the hazy platform view, heart in my throat (yes, even now), my hand slides nonchalantly off your greasy pole while I struggle to remain standing, instead stumbling forward ineptly. You’re always greasy, whether I go high or low, […]
Soon We Will be Good Friends, I Think
Posted on January 19, 2015 Leave a Comment
Below a starburst transom of sturdy weeds I rest, looking upward. Within the heavy stone touching the back of my head your grip convenes momentarily, almost on a whim, so that the tangle of my hair – pretending itself a pillow – is like the backs of the houses I see before me, exposed and […]
Begin
Posted on January 1, 2015 Leave a Comment
This day bounces off the mellowed slate, which is neither clean, nor fresh but winnowed by the past and obliged to begin again – fallibly, humbly, and hopeful that the sunlight through the blackened sticks of winter trees is the proof.
Los Mangles Rojos
Posted on December 16, 2014 Leave a Comment
1. There was a truck, back opened and piled with soiled towels, idling on the narrow stamped cement path. A sour smell of dampness, sweat, and burgeoning mildew – not only the physical truck – impeded his grumbling scooter. It was the same every evening around this time. Thoughtless day laborers, hired to collect the […]
A Dog for Christmas
Posted on December 12, 2014 Leave a Comment
What she remembered distinctly about the fire was the air. That it was embedded with caustic molecules, invisibly smoldering just underneath her nostrils. How that air had shocked her lungs with each breath. And the dog, of course; she remembered the dog. The charred heaps of garbage, the cluttered debris, the murky bits of interior […]
A Girl by the Bridge 
Recent Comments