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Libera me
Posted on December 5, 2014 Leave a Comment
Late November peppers the sky with cirrus clouds, blackened underneath, and suggestive of cold rain. Rain which may fall sometime soon – but not today – then, presently, a screeching-halt sunset descends, assaults, roads curving into evening, lined with empty see-through buildings illumined by the practiced forlorn of nightfall. How it skulks along the edges […]
The Eighth Sea
Posted on November 13, 2014 Leave a Comment
The eighth sea brims with absurdity, while mangled mangroves just ashore absorb it. The farce exudes itself plainly – though not particularly, in that it is not so recognizable at first. It sinks in, over time, and through the twisted roots coils upward. All the while, underneath, as the eye is unmindful, the core soaks […]
The Village
Posted on October 23, 2014 Leave a Comment
I. There was only a sliver of sunlight remaining in the middle courtyard – really just a sword of uneven brightness across my legs, outspread on the broken concrete. Too tired to get up, but knowing it would soon be dark, I let myself be distracted by the old woman who’d moved in last week […]
The Hair Tie
Posted on October 13, 2014 Leave a Comment
One – If it had snapped – the way those cheaply-made hair ties usually do, in that weak spot where they are joined together – it would have rested as a thin, black ‘S’ in the cracked pavement. It didn’t, though. It slid out of her lanky, slippery hair, bounced off her tote bag, and […]
Skylab
Posted on October 1, 2014 Leave a Comment
At this, the end of the world, I feel more English than Zadie Smith – not because of white teeth, but because there is no way to write the stories without insult. Surely there is recognition in every word, written unravelling to rest closest to the truth, otherwise clouded with nostalgia, imagined nuance. The price […]
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 […]
Tikkun Olam
Posted on August 15, 2014 Leave a Comment
The world is sad, unjust, tormented, broken – but sunscrubbed hyperbole will never mend it. Isolated, singular refrains of trumpeted exegesis are inadequate, ineffectual in our muted universe, if the purpose is one of repair. We must love the words we speak. The world is joyful, righteous, untroubled, perfect – but vitriol will never break […]
End of Shift
Posted on August 7, 2014 Leave a Comment
Inflated insensitivity clocks out at 7:30, hoisting its Michael Kors bags on twin, still-painless hips, and smoothly bouncing past a faded blonde, head in her hands, crouched on the curb and muttering prayers to her feet, because death – even when anticipated – is vulgar and unexpected, isn’t it? They cross the driveway to the […]
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 […]
Thunder is Thunder is Thunder
Posted on June 23, 2014 Leave a Comment
Stealing your thunder – I can do that, you say, while evenly flicking rubbery drips off the side of a bottle. Dark and syrupy drips, sweetly sad with indignant envy, that thunder bounces and beats behind me – and I ignore it as best I can – but, nanosenconds apart, it’s upon me and inescapable. […]
A Girl by the Bridge 
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