in the Chicago Tribune young women write letters to the editor explaining why gangsters are cool

when i wasyoungerand the gangsterswere the coolesti taught myselfto walkwith my feetpointed out to the side,like the gangsters do. i watched thegangsters laugh andsell drugs.i watched themwalk into classroomsand curse out the teacher.i watched as theyfell in the parkand in the streetand in the alleyand up alongside the curb.and alwaysthey were cool. many years haveContinue reading “in the Chicago Tribune young women write letters to the editor explaining why gangsters are cool”

for James Wright and the gentle wasting of life

a song in a room,the roomopen to the outdoors. the musician,a son toanother musician. the door,painteda pale yellowand opento the talking ofparking lot ravens. outside,there aremountains and ocean,eagles and bears.lots of green trees. buti cannot seeany of that,no,i see apainted paleyellow doorajar to asmall parking lot. i hear the talkingof ravens; i hear the mutedroaringContinue reading “for James Wright and the gentle wasting of life”

if mind has no aim, it is mahamudra

this time of year,there is fruitin the fields.fruitin the gardens. when I leavemy house,my pockets areempty,other than thebreast pocket ofmy shirt,in which I keepa stickfor my teeth. the human settlementhere is small,compact,easy to navigateby foot.people hereare generous,some call me“neighbor”and offer mefruit from their trees. the water hereis clean andplentiful, andthe fields are fullof fruit,this timeContinue reading “if mind has no aim, it is mahamudra”

my man goes on a diet so switches his pizza topping from pepperoni to chicken

we were bothtwenty fivewhen our dads died. his,in 2016.and mine,in 2006. he told me aboutthe seven hour long bus ridefrom the town he was inwith his uncle, backto the village of his birth,his father’s death.he told me of howhe cried so hardon the bus thatthe other passengerswere worried for his safety,worried he might choke,stop breathing.Continue reading “my man goes on a diet so switches his pizza topping from pepperoni to chicken”

Q101 WKQX

my sister and iin a Chicagoof our pre-teens,pretending to beolder, other,different. she,in the back seatwith a feigned cigarette,and mein the driver’s seat,with a feigned understandingof how to drive. “shall i turn onthe radio?”i ask. glancingin the rearviewmirror, “willwe grow uptogether?will we befriends whenwe are older?will we one daylearn how to becool?”

how to have goals when you believe in emptiness

anger is a habit,sadness is a habit,peace is a practice. the knife goes tothe left of the plate,i think,to the left of the plateand with the bladepointed in. anger is ahabit. one possible explanationfor road rage is thatwe are maxing out ourexecutive functions,piloting thousands ofpounds of glassand metal,our own bone weighingso much less.this leaves littleContinue reading “how to have goals when you believe in emptiness”

teeth are for rich people

it’s hard for me to feela sense ofaccomplishment. be humble.look, listen,see, hear,no one caresif you hate yourlife. work harder.are you notrich? do you nothave friends? human is to bean individualbut yes alsoin community. to be human is todownplayrole of communityand exaggeratepersonal accomplishment. even if itdoesn’t feellike anything. i spent monthsbuilding trailsthrough a forest ofevergreen.the groundContinue reading “teeth are for rich people”

a form empties itself; a self forms from emptiness

it isn’t uncommonto remove yourselffrom the group. it is commonto define yourselfboth bythe groups you seekacceptance from,and thoseyou refuse. it isn’t so common,to remove yourselfwithout anywhereto placethe body. it isn’t so uncommonto bring an absencewith your presence. yesterday i boughtapocryphal junk foodfrom a grocery store. i held thesoftwarmcardboard,the clingingwarmplastic,in one handwhile scooping junkwith the other.Continue reading “a form empties itself; a self forms from emptiness”

the self-consciousness of watching yourself

we thinkthe physics ofthis known universeare so solid. “this can’thappen”,we say,“the physics ofthis planetdo not allow forthis”. a single eyelashfloatson a shuffling breeze.bored of our certainty,the breeze settles itselfto a chuff,to a riffle,to a sigh. an eyelash losesits lilt,on a breezethat has lostits desire. inconsequential;the physicschange.impermanent;the Human wondersat its consequence. the blinking eyegives reliefto everyContinue reading “the self-consciousness of watching yourself”

the sun is bright and standing still, it’s alright

carry the sandwichboard to the curb,to the street,to the breakin the sidewalk. it’s black, thissandwich board,with a white vinyl stickerdisplaying the name ofa store. set the sandwichboard on the smallpatch of grass,just next to thestreet, just up fromthe curb,a pace over fromthe sidewalk break. check the wind,adjust the splayof the sandwichboard to accommodatefor gusts.arrow onContinue reading “the sun is bright and standing still, it’s alright”

i don’t climb mountain, mountain climbs me

no not every dayis an amazing day. that’s ok. no maybe almost noneof your daysare amazing. that’s ok. a handful ofamazing daysmakes for arich lifetime. most days areaverage.normal.even mundane. today i placedfrozen chicken nuggetsand tater totsinto a smallpropane-firedoven. thrilling.i felt asmall thrillat this,this preparation ofjunk food,this acceptancethat, yes, i ammaking the choice toeat this food.Continue reading “i don’t climb mountain, mountain climbs me”

like your friend who gets the sugar cereal and you stay the night at their house and at your home all you get is corn flakes

the windowsleakand the floorisn’t totally flatand there’s abig blue dieselengine down thereanyway andi ought tostart it andrun it andwhen i flip theengine togglethe oil pressurealarm goes offand i knownothingof enginesand nothingof physics andthe lighter i use tolight my propane stovejust ran out of fueland fuelis another thing idon’t understandall that well thoughwell enoughto know thatwhenContinue reading “like your friend who gets the sugar cereal and you stay the night at their house and at your home all you get is corn flakes”

the water tastes like stone and turns our skin softly crystalline when we sweat

a Springwalkin the latemorning. oceanall aroundme. from oneisland,acrossa bridge,to another. a frienddrives byin his truck.we bothwave.i have knownhimfor many years,we rarely seeeach otheranymore. a womanpushinga stroller,a dogleashedto it,takes apathi was hopingfor. i walk onbehind her,hesitate,and pivotbackthe wayi came. i did notwantthe discomfortof trailing her,speeding uptoovertake,the awkwardfew momentswhere we walkastride. the changein directionmattersnot. every pathcontainsbeauty.

i won a free pair of shoes at a sporting goods store in Boston because my customer service skills are so undeniable

oh, wow.onlytwothousandunited statesdollarsfor youtobuild with meawebsite? what aterrificvalue. aren’t youabillion dollarcompany? and yetstill, youmercilessly,vampirically,squeeeeeeeeze. “more”you frothand shudder andbelch, WENEEDMORE we have beentaught tocapitalize;devotion is apileof drooled-upondollars. salvationis through the eyeof a needle;a tax burdenof 0%;a fortunewith noincome. ours is asea fullof flash.mesmerized,we feed,until we areyankedfree.

with the increase in daylight caffeine becomes less possible

he complainsabout the short statementhe wrote,how it disappeared,how he cannotwrite it again. she complainsthat he complainsso much.that small inconveniencesturn him into tempest. “just write itagain”,she thinks.it will only takea few minutes. he tries toremembertheir passwordforthe website,so he canagain writehis statementagain. he cannot. he sends hera message,“what isthe password?what isthe first concertyouever saw?” waiting,waiting, hethinks, “whycan’tContinue reading “with the increase in daylight caffeine becomes less possible”

depression is mostly just a repetition of pattern

a dolphinon atexas beachdiesafter beachgoerstry to ride it. a friend’s momdiesand i try tomake a joke,“welcome tothedeadparentsclub.” a man whowears shortsin winterputs a flagup on the backof his boat,the flagfeaturing acartoon skeletondraped in anAmerican flag,withautomatic riflescrossedin the background,and anaggressive statementin support ofguns. a womanwantsto get aphoto of herselfon the edge ofa cliff.fields oftaut,youngskin.a suggestion ofmaterialstretchedContinue reading “depression is mostly just a repetition of pattern”

i watched the person walk into the coffee shop, return with two coffees, get back into the vehicle, and drive away

morning is latethough has not yetdulled itselfinto afternoon. you walk alonga dock,wooden,floating. a sailboat istied to the dock,floating,fiberglass. the sailboatgrew itself ribs,in the Fall.in the Fallthe sailboatgrew ribs andskinned itself inthick plastic sheeting. all Winter long,that sailboat,fiberglass,floating,a cocoon. and thislate morning,not yet dull,not still shimmering,you walkalong a dock,wooden,floating. and you walkby a sailboat,fiberglass,floating. and theContinue reading “i watched the person walk into the coffee shop, return with two coffees, get back into the vehicle, and drive away”

i wore glasses and then contacts and then nothing at all

you live righton the waterand you lookout of thetiny oval windownext to yoursmall tableand seeringson the water’ssurface that let youknow somethingjust dove down,or returned from,so you shiftyour bodyto scanyour entireallowanceof world,doled out to youfrom your tinyoval window(s). the clouds arelow today.they drift downto nearly touchthe small chopof today’s gentleocean. the clouds arelow today.they soon swallowwhateverContinue reading “i wore glasses and then contacts and then nothing at all”

it’s sunny outside so people stay away

i did not have anychildren. i did nothave even onedog. not a cat.i did not really everappreciate the worki was given. mostlyi havecomplaints. mostlyi havea body fullof organsthat pump andswish andburble andgrin. they all wantlove, too.it isn’t justfor the heart. mostlyi havethese words,filteringinto me,never oncemine, alwaysto leave me.nothing broken,in their vanishingwake.

the land was sold to another buyer so the dream of farming it remains a seed

in the muted eveninglight an unseentrumpet calls to allthe midwestern trains,lumbering andlamentingacross rusted fields. when i was stilla pre-teen, irode a train fromChicago toUpstate New York,waking into the greennight and a Clevelandtrain station. the belly long ago spilledover the belt,and the rust has grownso boldas to overtakeeven the surrounding fields. now, nowin the muted eveninglight,Continue reading “the land was sold to another buyer so the dream of farming it remains a seed”

they tore out all the trees to make a new ramp yet here they are using the old one

there is no holein the wateryet the bird exitedthrough a hole. i see it,the hole,where the birddisappeared. it’s just water,this hole,like the waterthat surrounds it. a hole,characterized byabsence,disappears fromwaters’ surface. a bird,previously floating,disappears. i woke to floatfreely in thisthin atmosphere. i woke to practiceat forgiveness. a hole ischaracterized byabsence,yet herewe togetherare.

i write to her but am not capable of seeing her name so quickly delete her reply

i have thesewhite countertopson my boatand i hatethem. i go to all sorts oflengths to try tokeep them“clean”. when i grindcoffeein themorning,i lay downcutting boardsandpaper towels,in an effort tocatch theinevitableerrantcoffeegrounds. but inevercatch themall.and thewhite countertopis alwaysspeckled. at timesi getinto aparalysisabout this,feelingtotally defeatedby my inabilityto do even the mostbasic of tasks,so i letdishes pile upand don’tContinue reading “i write to her but am not capable of seeing her name so quickly delete her reply”

the dog takes itself for a walk

tire tracks in the snowshow me wherei backed in,pulled out.tire tracks in the snowmake beautiful loops,graceful arcs. this is all a sequenceof patterns, eventhe chaotic parts. i wake again toan emptinessthat i’ve not yet learnedto fill. thissilence is sometimeshollow, soi stuff it with cotton. a man i’ve spent more thana decade withthough never met,he speaksContinue reading “the dog takes itself for a walk”

had i known you were bringing a terrified teenager, i likely would have worn different pants

i make listsin small pocket-sizednotebooks. i put boxesnext to the wordsi write, boxesthat allow me tomake an X ora checkmark,so that i canplainly seemy accomplishments. this weekthe small notebooktells me todo some researchon fermented beverages.tells me tofind a floor maton which towipe my shows. this weekthe small notebooktells me to gothrough my clothes,weed out thatContinue reading “had i known you were bringing a terrified teenager, i likely would have worn different pants”

forty in less than a day

tomorrow morningi wake to forty. twenty years ofmy lifewere spentin some form ofalcoholic haze. forty years ofmy lifehave been spenttrying to get high. i used tospin arounduntil i couldn’tsee straight.i used toeat until i couldn’tmove. iused to figureout ways towatch moviesandlisten to musicthat my parents triedto forbid. i have alwayswantedmore thani have.and tomorrowwill comeand iContinue reading “forty in less than a day”

it gets a little lonely in the expansive evening

we like tomeasure thingsso weinvented time. it seems likemaybewe have agood bit of it,time, butit goes pretty quick. we give awayour timeso that we can begiven moneyin return. we take thismoney anduse it to try tobuy back ourtime. and time,invented.and money,invented.butwe haven’t yetreally figured outhow to getmore time. we think ourselvesimpoverishedwhen we havevery little money,thoughContinue reading “it gets a little lonely in the expansive evening”

some people forget where they live so they put flags on their vehicles to remind them

this morningthe store was out ofwhole milk soi bought cream. in the parking loti walked towardsthe oceanandthe womanwith the coarse hairrode her bike inthe opposite direction. she had ayellow waterproof bagattached to herbike.she appeared torecognize me soi started toraise my arm inresponse,casuallystuffingmy handbackintomy pocketonceirealized shedidn’t noticeme, wasonly smilingin the directionofa groupofbirds. i smile atthe birds.Continue reading “some people forget where they live so they put flags on their vehicles to remind them”

social media taught me that i am human

social media has taught methat everyone isfamous and beautifuland always doingamazing stunningfascinating importantthings. we all like tohave funand we all like toeat good foodand we all feelbadly about ourselvessometimes. and sometimeswe feel greatand we like to showhow great we feelby showing ourteeth orour breastsor our hair orour shining hairless heads. we are all sadand weContinue reading “social media taught me that i am human”

the next day we nearly slid your gold Toyota Camry off a thickly mudded road

your right ear ispluggedso you look forhydrogen peroxide. you turn the music uplouder,half-fascinated bythe muted rumblein your Spring-plugged ear.half-disgusted. you look forhydrogen peroxideas it is said to helploose a plugged earand while youdo not find ityou do finda diminutive torch;the type used forcrafts andcreme brûléeandthe smoking ofillicit drugs. it is Spring andyou have just daysContinue reading “the next day we nearly slid your gold Toyota Camry off a thickly mudded road”

Valentines Day in the Double Deuce

two cups of coffee sonow i feel that there issomethingi am to do. the weather forecastblinks benignlyfrom the stillness ofmy phone screen.it tells me toexpect an opulenceof clouds,though not toworry abouta drenching. the windows areso streaked withfalling water,i cannot tellif it is raining oronly pregnantwith the possibility. i plan my clothing;this is what it isiContinue reading “Valentines Day in the Double Deuce”

the previous record for rain was just smashed by more than quadruple

it’s your birthday.the last day of your job.or the first day.it’s the day youtwist in your seat (one small popcoming from your backas you turn,not like whenyou were younger,and you could get yourentire spineto crack when you twisted) and look backat the empty housethat was once fullas your home. you are headed toa new town.Continue reading “the previous record for rain was just smashed by more than quadruple”

i am not afraid of virtual reality

disappoint a friend.your mom walks alonefrom the auto mechanic,to the coffee shop.bagel and coffee,black,and then backto pick up her car. you spend all morning standing up,moving your limbs anddigits about, sitting down.sitting down blurs to laying down.lying down.never can you keepthe difference straight. disappoint a friend,she thinks you took herwords out of context,she thinks sheContinue reading “i am not afraid of virtual reality”

the parasite inside me is hidden but rarely is it unseen

i ask a friend ifher childrenhelp her to feellife is meaningful. “no”,she responds.“creating thingshelps me feelmy life is meaningful”,she says,and i wonderhow it isher kidscame to be. sitting is an actionso to sitis to do.even those withthe standing desks,looking downand overtheir kneecapsat the sedentarily seated,even they willfinish their workdayand fold themselvesinto some formof support. sittingContinue reading “the parasite inside me is hidden but rarely is it unseen”

“that’s about all i can do without losing my mind”

goes down into partially finished basement, plugs into power, plugs into amplification, uses sticks to beat rhythmically on drums. grows facial hair long; facial hair does not come in uniformly. devotes to monasticism, mysticism, ritual of contemplation, organization of human through spiritual avenues, channels, tributaries. not really being paid for this, well, being paid butContinue reading ““that’s about all i can do without losing my mind””

drink lemon balm tea every day and take walks

the man droveby in an old whiteford pickup anda broken beard. the sun wasbehind me soi could lookdirectly at him. when he lookedmy way allhe saw wasthe nothingness ofbrilliance. his eyesshaded, andhis beardbroken. to the lay personit seems his beard isneatly trimmed,but i, with the sunat my backallowing me anunbroken stare,i can see thatthe trimmedContinue reading “drink lemon balm tea every day and take walks”

it can be difficult to make friends when you are a know-it-all

most of the ice has meltedbut still we are providedample opportunityfor a fall. when i am at worki do not much want to doanything.not much of anythingother than be there. when the day is no longerrequiring me to work,then i can considerdoing somethingother than only being. we tell tales of antsand look pridefullyat their industriousContinue reading “it can be difficult to make friends when you are a know-it-all”

ice on a Silver Bay sidewalk; a heart of spruce and pine

it could be thati like the symbolismof a treadmill,all that pantomimed running,going nowhere. isn’t this what it isto be finally ridof hope?not in a disheartened way,no, butthe hopelessness of beingflung fully open? and of course havingnowhere to getis not to say that there isnowhere to go. yesterday,i walked deep into a fjord,maybe it’s really justContinue reading “ice on a Silver Bay sidewalk; a heart of spruce and pine”

there’s a 3% fee on every donation but the kindness of it comes through quietly unfettered

the morningspread its cloudslate into the afternoon. I don’t mind,in fact often prefer,the close comfortof covering cloudto the vertigoof a wide open sky. late this afternoon,i painted a blue dooryellow, the blue skyreappearing,with every brushstroke. i do not bemoanthe sun, even if itcauses me to reddenwith the embarrassmentof my life. perhaps, withguidance,i will learn tofeelContinue reading “there’s a 3% fee on every donation but the kindness of it comes through quietly unfettered”

the lid is pink and the container is glass and inside it, the ginger is yellow and dry

the lid won’t go back on.i want to force it. instead, i stop.slowly line upthe threads, andscrew it back into place. the lid, it’s sticky.it wears a dentfrom the last timeit got stuck, andi slammed it down,thinking that would help itre-home itself. i was wrong. the lid, still askew,and now dented. now dented,still sticky,the lidContinue reading “the lid is pink and the container is glass and inside it, the ginger is yellow and dry”

the last time i saw that man he shared with me his cocaine and fish

used to be we rana lot of things offof steam. we didn’t run outof steam, butwe did find better, or at leastmore profitable, ways to generateour motion.our motion, so that we can feelsome sense of progress. and progress, sothat we can feelourselves toexist. used to be we foundourselves to matter by using steam. we haven’tContinue reading “the last time i saw that man he shared with me his cocaine and fish”

usual cold

an icicle hangson in the sun.it elongatesin the sun.it sharpens inthe sun. an icicle growsresolute in the moon.it gathersitself in the moon.it spreadsout in the moon. an icicle hangson in the wind.it growsangular in the wind.it emboldens to vocalin the wind. the icicle isfragile.the icicle isbrief.the iciclefalls,draws blood,and becomes waterto clear it away.

a looped piano by a human named Emily

it’s a struggleto modulatethe volume ofmy voice. maybe,now, moreso, withthe lessening ofgatherings,now, withthe increased timespent alone. hourspile themselvesconvivially atopeach other;i standatoptheir currentformation, asyears. yearsi’ve beenmostlyspeaking insidemy head.and withoutthe wincing eyesof others,i find itdifficultto modulatethe volumeof my voice. many times,i do not feelmyselfto be toovoluble.sometimes,even i balkat the sharptreble ball bearingof my voice. rising. rising likeContinue reading “a looped piano by a human named Emily”

a group of ravens with plumage puffed to the cold ate garbage unabashedly and stared at me as i got into a car

walking a dogthrough a parktall with totem poles,singing with trees. walking a dogit stops to nose,i stop too. we walk togetheralong a brackishsection of river.there are birdsfloating alongin the water. “look”i say to the dog,“look,there are ducks”. the dog looksat me,the dog glancestowards the water.the dog nosesthe base of a tree. “i don’t actually knowifContinue reading “a group of ravens with plumage puffed to the cold ate garbage unabashedly and stared at me as i got into a car”

i had a baby with a woman who makes enough money playing abstract electronic music so that i don’t have to get a job and can put the baby in a sling or a pouch and walk around with it all the time

i said the words“my dad has been deadfor more than16 years”and this could only bemade palatable bya synthesizerbeing played atthe same time. more than 16 years isa long timebut not as long asdeath so it isa requirement thatthe synthesizerplay a note ora sound ora hum andgive itself toa sustaining. 16 years long anddeath short andtheContinue reading “i had a baby with a woman who makes enough money playing abstract electronic music so that i don’t have to get a job and can put the baby in a sling or a pouch and walk around with it all the time”

winter on the docks

in the blackmorning i am unableto see. waitingto dilate, a whitebird becomes ghostly,floating on ocean’sunseen skin.seeing me,the bird beatsitself into flight.a mirror onceclung to athin footing ofwall. it isno longer there.its memory isgray, its shadowis a mottled brown. my life is motionlesslike the mountains.their heads lostin white.their shoulders takenfrom green intoblack. i returnto cold colorlesswaiting,Continue reading “winter on the docks”

“you should get one. it’s a great place for those kind of self-oriented musings.”

still i strugglewith believing other peopleare real. i went runningthis morningand that wasn’t sofun but i feltgood most of theday afterwards andthis feels importantto me.feels importantto otherpeople. but it is not. still i strugglewith recognizing;things that areimportantto me arevery often barelydiscernible toothers. today i tolda friend,“i enjoy looking atthe surrounding mountains;they look so big, butreallyContinue reading ““you should get one. it’s a great place for those kind of self-oriented musings.””

i’ve seen this film at least a dozen times but tomorrow will be only the second time seeing it on the big screen

and sometimesthe sadness is socrushing youjust levitate. no, nothinghappened.you aresliding thickly into bed,and you arehappy to be doing so.the room isquite cool likeyou like it anddark like youlike it andthe bed is cold enoughto bring your skin toa densely hillock’dtexture. but,you like this,too. and know thatsoon your body willheat the small denyou make of theContinue reading “i’ve seen this film at least a dozen times but tomorrow will be only the second time seeing it on the big screen”

Winter in the archipelago

outside it israinon top ofsnow. walking, istruggle to maintainmy footing. inside,it is anage-d couplein the morning.bathingin their insidelight. slipping,outside, ilook inside;one of the pairsitsin a morning chair.the other,lets fingernailsslipalong offered back. outside,it is rainon top of snow. outside,it ishard to maintainfooting. inside,it is a sharing,unobtrusive,kindness.not intended formy consumption. outside,eyes do not pry,no,they are acceptinglike aContinue reading “Winter in the archipelago”

the room is silent save for all the heaviness of breath

i want to putmy feetexactly whereher feetare, buther feetare there, soi can notreplace them withmine. her pants area velveteen olive greenand she rolls likeAA baseball jawfull of chaw.she rolls as sheundulatesupon the spinningribbon that i wantfor myself. so i scootand find a seata few feetfrom her,sneakingoccasional glancesat the rolling olivesof her treading. a woman comesContinue reading “the room is silent save for all the heaviness of breath”

i can’t title this exactly as i want to as it might give too much away and i may pay both a literal and figurative price (meter reader walks the dock and i note the time)

all day long andwell through my nightsthere are storiesbeing toldin my mind. i don’thave a mind forstories. some people takeone job andthey do thatjob, a jobfor money, they dothat one job fortheir whole working life.some people takejob after job afterjob, working fortheir whole life.i read or heard orwas told a storyabout how around40% of peoplehateContinue reading “i can’t title this exactly as i want to as it might give too much away and i may pay both a literal and figurative price (meter reader walks the dock and i note the time)”

you can try to catch the fish so long as you take the barb from the hook

i sent USD$100to Africa andmy man bought foodfor his family andput electricityto his house. warm, i amwarm enoughin a used andinsulated long sleeve,wool socks anddenim. warmenough to sit hereunder pulsing lights andwrite about hell. hell is onlythe breadth of a hair,yes? ormaybe that isthe distance betweenheaven and hell.who of us issurprisedthat thiswhole smearing planetis ableContinue reading “you can try to catch the fish so long as you take the barb from the hook”

a deer neck in a plastic bag, still plenty of meat on it

as i amno painter,i imagine itto be likelaying paint. maybe a coator twocan get youthe coverageyou seek,but it isthroughrepeated layeringsthat nuance ishewn. is that amixing ofmetaphors? admiring the razorstraight lines,at the edgeswhere ceilingand wall meet,i say, “nice jobwith the tape”, thinkingone can only keepsplatter at bayin this way. “i did notuse anytape, onlya steady hand”,Continue reading “a deer neck in a plastic bag, still plenty of meat on it”

sometimes it’s hard to stay asleep in the presence of all this swelling

coral reaches up,bone white andgleaming. the sea rises,and yet the coralreaches up,bleached. on our patches of landwe keep ourselvessafe from reach.we fly flags andsew patchesonto our outer layers,identifying ourselvesas member. remember,the ship didn’t failin its duty,it was the coralthat reached up,its thousand tiny hands,not clinging butreaching. on our patchesof land, patcheson our sleeves,we keep ourselvessafeContinue reading “sometimes it’s hard to stay asleep in the presence of all this swelling”

the animal wants badly to be pet but is too afraid to get close enough to allow it

a woman runs ona treadmill, the sameone every time. she wearsthe samepurple bluetank top.the samecropped blackpants. once she getsto running, shemoans and shrieksas though orgasmic. i turn up the soundin my ears,trying to drownout her exhortations. many years agoi walked along adry brown wooden dock.it was warm andi wore shorts.my rubber boots,folded downto the ankle.aContinue reading “the animal wants badly to be pet but is too afraid to get close enough to allow it”

“i’m starting out my day…with a chopper”

i can’t even counthow many other fellaswalked just like me,listened to thissame songjust like me,felt aggressive anddespairingjust like me. hands scritch upin the way ofmid-90s murder rapChicago, gangson every street,families on every street. i can’t even countthe families whostood in the alleywayand pointedtheir weapons downtoward the park,down the green corridorof stinking Summer heat,when it’s soContinue reading ““i’m starting out my day…with a chopper””

the heart hangs from the rafters, it is blue and in need of a welding

i wonder howimportant i would feel ifi felt important? three days agoi chewed thin stripsof deer meatfrom oven-roasted neck bones,which i had forgotten aboutin my propane-fired stove.i had placed themin the stoveand then leftto help a man apply acoat of plastic sheetingto his sailboat,a protectantfrom the Winterand its season of gifts.he offered me money,which iContinue reading “the heart hangs from the rafters, it is blue and in need of a welding”

there are so few reasons, really.

the sun looksweak in the sky,muted to impotencebehind season and cloud.but it is not.the sun is alwaysthe same, it’s strengthalways cataclysmic. eventually, so i amtold, it willburn itself out.what a relief. the moon smirksat the sun’s rage,its might, itsearnest, dutiful,belief. its exhaustion.the moon is no bully.it presents the sun withunfailing reflection,a place to put itself.peopleContinue reading “there are so few reasons, really.”

after slipping several times, i’ve learned to step cautiously into the floating morning

today maybe it isBuddha i disappoint.i am well-versed inJesus’ mild exasperation,my inability toproperly prostrate,the joyful noises thatdo not come. i was for so longso unafraid oftotal annihilation.now, i am afraidof a cupof caffeinated coffee. Buddha encourages meto keep myself fromthat chemical excitement,though probably ihave that wrong. terrified, i stareat my coffee grinder.in frozen despairi lookContinue reading “after slipping several times, i’ve learned to step cautiously into the floating morning”

there are two colors in my head

a creative godhas given me manywalls upon whichto hang myself. it’s all a question offraming,isn’t it.the corner ofa building,whether or notyou believe insuch things asdisembodied hopes,dreams, thisis one such placethey live;the cornerof a building. a woman tells me,“you must be livingas you dofor the adventure of it!”,and yes, this isa way to frame it. twoContinue reading “there are two colors in my head”

a series of temporary homes

“you’re a lot nicerin person”, shesays to me,says to mein an email. what would haveonce beena letter. we spentan hour, maybetwo,in the odd sprawlof a surprise garden,tucked quietlybehind a bakery,on the sideof a country road. i saw lovein her eyes andi have loveon my lips.the former,perhapsonly illusion.the latter,given to herbriefly, and thentakenby the wind. iContinue reading “a series of temporary homes”

yesterday i rode my bike to a spring and filled a plastic jug full of its water

i never cared muchfor birds.which isn’t to sayi did not carefor them,about them,just thati did not needto know their names. their migratory patterns,a happy mysteryto me. me,blissfulin my ignorance,unaware ofwhat i wasunaware of. now i findmyself wantingto look at birdsmore closely.now i findthat i might wantto look at birds withyou, too. i don’t want totalkContinue reading “yesterday i rode my bike to a spring and filled a plastic jug full of its water”

it’s not stealing it’s borrowing so i borrow a hose from down the dock to fill freshwater into leaking freshwater tank, a good portion of which will leak and bilge pump out into the sea

last night’s words wentunwritten. the computer batterydiedand i did not haveelectricityfor charge.yes, i had plentyof paper and ink,though did notuse them.for someoneof my age,perhapsit is that writing withpen and paperis associated withschool and compulsion.neither did i ever muchenjoy.though i call thiswritinga compulsion,this writingthat i do nowon my aging computer,its brief battery. too charged,i switch morningcupContinue reading “it’s not stealing it’s borrowing so i borrow a hose from down the dock to fill freshwater into leaking freshwater tank, a good portion of which will leak and bilge pump out into the sea”

a lull between strokes of wind; late Fall in the archipelago

never is it not a timefor warming or cooling.always it is time andalways it is warmingor cooling. it is warming to me,to see the snowdistant on mountain peak.warming like the planet itself,so we are told.some disbelieve these tales,though the instrumentsthat measure and readsuch things, theirs isa music not given tothe persuasion of emotion.these instruments tellContinue reading “a lull between strokes of wind; late Fall in the archipelago”

we exchanged a message a piece and then took ourselves back to ghost

the only place i’ve ever seen a“friends don’t let friendseat farmed salmon”bumper sticker out in the wild(other than Sitka)was in New Paltz.i lived outside ofHolland Patentfor a few years,in a stretch of rollingdairy land outside of Utica.Utica, an agingspot of rust.cheesemaking acquaintancesin Pawletbrought me downto areas aroundGranville,and further onto the odd animalabusing perversion ofSaratoga Springs.humans,Continue reading “we exchanged a message a piece and then took ourselves back to ghost”

the morning is cold and moody. it hails and rains and glows in a muted marigold.

this is an evergreen town,though the hemlock sweepingup the hillside has goneto brown. at the hungerof a worm, maybea beetle. this is a town of mountainsthat masquerade as hill.let’s walk up the hill, upto where our lungs burnand our nose runs with the alpine wind. up the hillthrough the evergreens.sleeping bear hidden,waking bear hidden.down inContinue reading “the morning is cold and moody. it hails and rains and glows in a muted marigold.”

she’s too young which means of course that you are too old and still you are full of steam and only wish yourself water

the boat is fullof steam.as, perhaps,am i. sloshing,certainly. asis the oceani float upon.all of us,floating. the mostboastfuland confident,those are theones who areleast,ormaybe mostaware,ofthe tenuousnessof this rock. solidity? wellyes,a rockwill take usupon it.yes,a rock willhide wellits slow sink. evenstill,it floats.this rock,ourmeat’dbodies uponit. at nightthe oceansometimesknocks andi burrowinto dreamandforget my wakingself. inmorning the oceansighs and the oceanwhispersContinue reading “she’s too young which means of course that you are too old and still you are full of steam and only wish yourself water”

oblivion in october

i want to photographthe poem“Laguna Blues”by Charles Wright,send it to a friend. the book i havethat contains it,it splits the poemacross two pages,making it impossiblefor me to capture itin the way thati desire. i copy and pastethe poem froma webpage,the line breaksand stanzas,shattered andunkempt. “something’s off-keyin my mind.whatever it is,it bothers meall the time”.

walking home through the woods from the post office i pass an old coworker in a kayak and talk too loudly and scare away the birds he was quietly paddling to go see

i’ve felt hungertowards you,in different ways. many times,i’ve wantedyour body,thinkingthe pleasure derived from itmight somehow allow meto feel pleasure inmy own.that by consumingyou, imight becomevaluable. now, i eatyour bread made ofholiday magic, ringingbells many no longerhear,i myself struggleto hear.and ifeel a shift inmy appetite foryou.from feast offlesh to divine kindnessof friendship. thank you,for remaining withContinue reading “walking home through the woods from the post office i pass an old coworker in a kayak and talk too loudly and scare away the birds he was quietly paddling to go see”

most all of it mostly feels like trick, like sleight of hand, like last night’s dream; in an airport, unaware of where i’m going, but knowing i am to go

how does one start?a bird in the harbor,not one of theubiquitous gulls,and no, nothingagainst them.but a bird in the harbor.the water israinbow’d with oiland dimpledto a thousand smileswith Fall rainfall.and a birdwith a long,curved neck.sleek, designerscreate kitchen faucetsto shadow what the birdnaturally possess.a sleek curved neckand a long beak,tapering down toa fine point,though it doesContinue reading “most all of it mostly feels like trick, like sleight of hand, like last night’s dream; in an airport, unaware of where i’m going, but knowing i am to go”

i realized a wire had become disconnected from the bilge pump and that by touching the two wires together the pump again worked and i don’t think i’ve ever felt more proud in my life

with 9000 people in thiscobbled town, i find itmildly astoundingthat zero of them come into this small shopthat i wedge myselfinto it, for 3 hours,on a winded thursdayevening in the Fall. it rains for a while and thentakes a break.the wind picks up and thensets back down. have i nothing,that even one personmight find worthyContinue reading “i realized a wire had become disconnected from the bilge pump and that by touching the two wires together the pump again worked and i don’t think i’ve ever felt more proud in my life”

farmers market in early-mid-september in bucolic college town along the shores of a lake and the sun is on fire but no does not burn

we grow our childrenlike we grow our lawns;useless but pretty, alwaysin need of a cut.i speak to a woman,banded and brightin hammered bronze,i tell her,“but i don’t really wearearrings anymore”,and today, todaywhile walking pastan outdoor market,i ask, “are these discsmade from clay? painted,will the paint runin the rain?”.as if i fear being fled.as though itContinue reading “farmers market in early-mid-september in bucolic college town along the shores of a lake and the sun is on fire but no does not burn”

katlian bay in early september; it is a rainforest, it does as it is called to do

a short dockin a low tide.brown bear,alone, walksa temporary beach.gracefulin its searchfor shellfish. aluminum skiff andthree hoods,the last oneintended to proofagainst water.and all this waterdoes, is support. into gray,flanked by green,rain drivingagainst wrinkledforehead, squintedeyes. what isthe point ofthese brows?through them,blonde, a tingeof gold,i can see,despite the rain.driving. into the bodyof bay, windwashing waterto small swell.anContinue reading “katlian bay in early september; it is a rainforest, it does as it is called to do”

all of the trees are straight and tall and their tops bow gently to the sky

if i could speakwith music,maybe i couldtranslate feelinginto understanding. were i able totalk in color,it might bethis would allow methe power ofconveyance. it isn’t fair oraccurate,to say these wordsare inadequate,no.these words areall i have andyes, these wordsdo not seem to carryall i ask of them. spilling, overthe sides,as they go. it reminds me ofsteeples, steeplesweContinue reading “all of the trees are straight and tall and their tops bow gently to the sky”

instead of depression, dowels; sunshine in October

i am held closeon my right, a fewfeet of wooden floor,a tiny cast ironwoodstove, heat. i am given todrift on my left,1/4 inch stiffnessof fiberglass, blueblooming cold,then the sea. i feel the beseechof sea,its echo of cold,pulling me frommyself. i feel the closenessof heat,sun on wood,all of it warbling. it keeps meto myself, justas theContinue reading “instead of depression, dowels; sunshine in October”

i talk to my friend about getting drunk and love, he stops responding once we move from drunkenness to love

a woman i sort of lovedgot married this weekend,so i wrote her a poem.i will send it to her todayin an email she lived with mewhen she was 21and i was maybe 31.she dated guys whoi thought were blowhardsand she was in love with meand wanted to have sex with mebut we never did iContinue reading “i talk to my friend about getting drunk and love, he stops responding once we move from drunkenness to love”

i roamed around a tiny island town and took photos in a morning of late Fall

one windowbrings attention toshelves drapedwith the skin ofdead animals.above it,the windowobscured by swirlsof flowering plants.hanging from the porch,tendrils driftin the Fall breeze,held against their falling.below,hanging fromthe window’d shelves,empty paws danglein their stillness,long ago having chasedthemselves away. the street is stilldamp despite a morningpulled taut byblue sky. in 1998,in a stretchof forest,your great friend layin aContinue reading “i roamed around a tiny island town and took photos in a morning of late Fall”

if i don’t floss and brush my teeth early in the evening, i’ll just end up eating and eating long after my caloric needs have been met

are you looking for god?do you search for magicin your waking day?do you cling to dream,seeking the stars that hidebehind sleep’s pale mist? i think i would like tofall in love again. yes,love does maybe feellike magic. but what do iknow of this? i have so littleunderstandingof any of life’s workings,it all feels like magictoContinue reading “if i don’t floss and brush my teeth early in the evening, i’ll just end up eating and eating long after my caloric needs have been met”

a woman who despised me for the need she had, first introduced me to a writer who has stayed with me long after that woman stopped returning my emails

today i learneda writer i like namedHanifwas awarded aMacArthur fellowship,commonly known as a“genius grant”.he gets $625,000paid out over the course of5 years,for his genius.this is moneywell spent,as Hanif isa genius. i read his postregarding this award,and in it he spoke ofthe honor he feelsin joining two other peoplefrom his home town ofColumbus, Ohio,two other peopleContinue reading “a woman who despised me for the need she had, first introduced me to a writer who has stayed with me long after that woman stopped returning my emails”

i think the gold colored wool shirt i am wearing is cool but my lumpy body, decidedly less so

there’s a spiderin the corner,an inchfrom the floor. i didn’t reactwith acool reactionin the new meditationgroup i joinedand now i willmeditateon beinguncool. there’s a spiderin the cornerof the bathroomat the small shop iwork at.it is nearthe sink. it is suggestedi try to do100 daysin a rowof aguided meditation,a “sit”,and i canpost my thoughtsabout this,or trytoContinue reading “i think the gold colored wool shirt i am wearing is cool but my lumpy body, decidedly less so”

on sunny days i am a loser

my mouth,sensitiveto heatfrom the burningit enduredyesterdayevening. my mouthtaking blameforimpatience,my hand,unable to waitfor frozen pizzaturned moltenin a propane-firedoven, to cool. my hand,saintly,without faulteven now,as it tries toforce hot coffeeinto my burnedmouth. mouth, youare the vehiclei demandwith myconsumptivedesires. mouth, youtalk toomuch. mouth,your skin isso thin. mouth,your smile istoo broad, tooweak, too upsidedown. eventhe teethyou house,theyrequire so muchmaintenance.Continue reading “on sunny days i am a loser”

i am unsure how it feels but am certain that i have returned

some people thinkthe earth is flat.some people thinksystemic racism isn’t real.some people thinkthat being asked towear a maskis oppression andthat their freedomallows them to dictatewhat they do withtheir body, and alsoyour body, shouldyour body containa uterus. and yes we area species plaguedby amnesia, alwaysforgetting the absurditieswe repeat—today,some wish to pillory otherswho use their mosteducated effortsContinue reading “i am unsure how it feels but am certain that i have returned”

an airplane over the american west; feeling uneasy with calm

long black hair pulledloosely back, hangsnearly to the waist.long black hair shiningas though wet.feet, socked,without shoe.she walks up the aisle,bouncing lightlyon her toes.pivot,slight bounce,return. engines roar mildly,bathing the cylinderin surreality.like thinkingwrapped in gauze,the silent voiceof your interior,urged to shout. long black hair,unconcernedin its length,dryin its sheen.love,love dripped like thatonce, maybe more.in the past,love dripped ripeandContinue reading “an airplane over the american west; feeling uneasy with calm”

your phone says you are in, or at least from, western washington, but not seattle

i attach a hose toa spigoton a wooden dock,floating.placing the open endof the hoseinto the receiving portfor the vessel’s fresh watertanks, i turnthe spigot on. a few hours ago,i turnedthe faucet for my sink,filling a glasswith water. water,that has been throughmany, versionsand vessels,to get to me. i add tincturedhawthornand motherwortto water glass,drink it all down.Continue reading “your phone says you are in, or at least from, western washington, but not seattle”

and today is fruit of 3 barren years; sobriety in a time of plenty

you can fita lot of yourselfin a bottle. you can cramalmost all ofwho you areinto a can. the lip ofa bottle,so round andalluring.so slickagainst the purchaseof a pulling hand. the rim ofa can,it catchesthe evening lightjust right.draws youfurther in,even as its edgecuts you. use cautionaround bottles andcans, aroundswollen lipsand edgesthat glint likesharpened tooth. it takesContinue reading “and today is fruit of 3 barren years; sobriety in a time of plenty”

my friend tells me that the oddities of my titles makes it difficult to catalogue; the houses of our names are many-chambered

the tools thatbroke this fastnow bubble in belly.kitchen counter top,white, bears crumbs,wears stains.the smaller the space,the more it callsfor clean. thatsponge was brieflyyellow and green,a smiling bruise,now it is cloakedunabashedly in its duty;coffee ground brown andshallow exhalation gray.white kitchencountertops, speckledlike an egg, likea space wheresomethingmight grow. did i mention?i grew a broken fastat this kitchenContinue reading “my friend tells me that the oddities of my titles makes it difficult to catalogue; the houses of our names are many-chambered”

i’m supposed to ask permission to use people’s names when i write but how often have i done what i am supposed to?

last night wasa screened porchin an eastern state.pizza made from hand.tongues working to furtherthings along. last night,an encouragement,“your best voiceis your conversational voice,you should writemore in that”. my tongue, busywith the pizza andbusy with the wallsinside my mouth.is this wherethe wall is?is this whythe voice in my headis perceived asdifferent from the voicethat escapes me?Continue reading “i’m supposed to ask permission to use people’s names when i write but how often have i done what i am supposed to?”

they are heading to Nevada so i take them to the airport and return to the quiet kindness of their home they share with me

gauzy pale blinds,incandescentfrom morning’s rise.a wood framed window,a few inches opento the breeze.a screen for breathing.a bush just beyond,its motion close,nearly imperceptible.a tree in the short stretchof front yard, animatedtowards a liveliness not knownhere, closer to the ground. beyond this,across a street,another yard,behind another house,another tree,pale silver greenagainst mottled cloudsof September.it is an athlete,unrestrictedin itsContinue reading “they are heading to Nevada so i take them to the airport and return to the quiet kindness of their home they share with me”

all i do is kill time until i can eat again

do not talk about it;no one wants to hear. live on a boat;understand there isa differencebetween 12v and110v electricalpower. do notunderstand whatthat difference is. live on an island;recall what it felt liketo choke on panicand remember whatit felt like tofeel your ribspulverizeunder atmospheric oceansof despair anddon’t forget thattaking a drive cansometimes be the bestmedicine andContinue reading “all i do is kill time until i can eat again”

they both started out about the same but one deepened to near black and the other pale’d itself to translucent pink rose

my hands, pink,once calloused, nowsoft, my handswear red in the bloodblister gifted me by wood,handle of maul. wood,split for heat, though it callsout in a dry, cracking,cough. splitting,more like a ring,a howlingbell. and my hands,pink, they wear redfrom beets. beets,shorn of their greens,soaking a yellow cedarcutting board in a purpleexuberance.have you heard?about beets andnitric oxide?howContinue reading “they both started out about the same but one deepened to near black and the other pale’d itself to translucent pink rose”

katlian street in late august and a heathered black wool zip neck, too warm, carried in a curled palm

fading brown woodwraps itself arounda wooden frame.atop it all,a shinglingof slate grayand moss,a gutterclinging lazilyto the edge. human hands,some of ithuman hands,though not all,but human handsaffix a sign,plastic black withorange lettering,shouting“No Trespassing”,to all who mightwander by. up there,up there in thatgutter, a plant(not by human hands)is unbotheredin the wind.it sways and stills,it flutters andcomes gentlytoContinue reading “katlian street in late august and a heathered black wool zip neck, too warm, carried in a curled palm”

euphemism and lechery like lukewarm tea like blazing 60 degree heat like fog bank rolling in expecting welcome and receiving only up-turned hoods

a clock uses birdcallto fulfill its duty ofproclaiming hand-swept time. listening to music,the synthesizer isincongruous,discordant, tomechanized birdcall. i blame it on Time. a friend is a new father,he sits in a chairwith his newly born baby.baby sleeps, newbornfather smiles. hewears glasses,the father, andi use my own sightto admire hisdedicationto vision. a terror anda joyous bursttravelContinue reading “euphemism and lechery like lukewarm tea like blazing 60 degree heat like fog bank rolling in expecting welcome and receiving only up-turned hoods”

i spoke to Zach about building shelving and counter with wood, he, telling me, “the moisture content of the wood will help determine what can be built”

earlier i read a poemby Charles Wright.i am now unable tofind it, to mine itfor quote. something,something about…even that escapes me,even paraphraseis out of my reach.a brain, scrambled,despite all the lion’s mane,ginkgo, gotu kola. maybei am just hungry,thinking of eggs. always,it seems, alwaysi am hungry.i went into a bookstoreearlier, no, that was notwere i readContinue reading “i spoke to Zach about building shelving and counter with wood, he, telling me, “the moisture content of the wood will help determine what can be built””

eliason harbor in late august, a few days past year’s last minus tide

mourning on a dock.next to piling, lowtide, taking. stilli stood, still. next to barnaclesand sea stars.next to muscles,closed tightin their indigo strength. a piling,a woodendock made ofoverlapping crosses,a tide takingfrom usour mourning. and it was morningon a dock,i had grownso tall overnight.now towering,i towered overpiling. long ago, ormaybe onlymoments before,barnacles andsea stars,withered in their waiting,returnedContinue reading “eliason harbor in late august, a few days past year’s last minus tide”

Andrew picks me up in his truck and we go out to the boat launch to launch his boat and he pulls gear in search of halibut while i stand there and take photos and sway on sea legs through my mind

yesterday i strungsmall orbs, matte graylabradorite, onto dustygolden yellow waxedtwine. i’ve never beentoo dextrous, sostruggled with the smallknots i tied fore and aft ofeach small stone. i had to connectmore than onepiece of twine,dusty,golden,yellow,in order to completethe stringing of thesesmall stones. worriedat the strength ofthese connections,i tied double and tripleknots, singed themwith a quick biteContinue reading “Andrew picks me up in his truck and we go out to the boat launch to launch his boat and he pulls gear in search of halibut while i stand there and take photos and sway on sea legs through my mind”

last i saw Trevor he was walking in the rain without a raincoat, now i see him on the back deck of Mike’s old wooden troller and it is still raining but he is dry

now,it rains. thick clear vinyland fiberglassand blue canvaskeep me coveredfrom this wetting,though i am opento it. orrather, i amon a vessel withan openingto all this rain. a windswept dropor two, exclaimupon my leg,naked, fromthe knee down. earlier, when i waswalking andit was onlymisting, iwalked by aflowering bush,its smell,startlingly sweet.it shares itslittle patch of landwith aContinue reading “last i saw Trevor he was walking in the rain without a raincoat, now i see him on the back deck of Mike’s old wooden troller and it is still raining but he is dry”

having just replaced the brake pads on my bicycle’s mechanical disc brakes, i now needn’t apply as much pressure when i want to slow down

a teenageron a boatin an Alaskan bay,i used a cell phoneto call homeonce a week.terrified,terrified i grippedthe phone,convinced it wouldslip from my hand.my voice garbledas it was lostto the sea. on a flat roofin northern Vermont,along a long lakewith hazy viewsof New York’sUpstate mountains,i placed feeton new shingles,black as the nightsky. the night sky,above me,Continue reading “having just replaced the brake pads on my bicycle’s mechanical disc brakes, i now needn’t apply as much pressure when i want to slow down”

while the man was swollen with excess fat he was also unloading a truck and while all of this happened the truck idly ran

a fat manin aloose shirtandshorts,sweats in thebarely 60 degreeAugust day.he’s pulling a rampfrom the back endof a box truck.he’s deliveringpalleted food to acoffee shop. inside, derisionand sadnessand just a bit ofchuckling joy.inside,were itset it to music ormoving picture,maybe thismight draw awider audience.outside;the audience.inside;whatever isthere,moving through.set to musicor tomoving picture.outside,audience. andinside, whatmoves through.perhaps these areone, andtheContinue reading “while the man was swollen with excess fat he was also unloading a truck and while all of this happened the truck idly ran”

your friend brings his brother to your boat and this brother forgets his water bottle so returns minutes after leaving and you give him the water bottle and also a bag of trash to take to the parking lot dumpsters

maybe it is importantto rememberdifficult days,even or especiallywhen all we want is toforget. perhapsit is honoring toremember the daywhen despair andrage transformeda giving starinto a godof blindness andburning—peoplewalk by toastedamber and smellingof butter.their smiles brandishedlike small arms,and all those tombstonesboasting loudly from behindtheir fat-slicked lips. maybe what you cando is you cantake some photos orwriteContinue reading “your friend brings his brother to your boat and this brother forgets his water bottle so returns minutes after leaving and you give him the water bottle and also a bag of trash to take to the parking lot dumpsters”

the planet is getting hot and ya that might be “bad” for many species including humans if we are to say “extinction” and “bad” are synonymous but to the planet a desert is no more bad or good than a glacier and this is what you call luck

the ink i pressedrepeatedly overand over repeatedlyinto my skin,over and overrepeatedlyinto my skin the inkpressed overand over into myskin repeatedlyby a needlea small needleinto my skinover and overink repeatedlyinkinto my skinover andover the inki dipped upwith a needlerepeatedlyand over and overpressed it repeatedlyinto my skinover and overthe ink is now onthe oddly shapedwhite formica tablewithContinue reading “the planet is getting hot and ya that might be “bad” for many species including humans if we are to say “extinction” and “bad” are synonymous but to the planet a desert is no more bad or good than a glacier and this is what you call luck”

three bears shot to death and plastic cans cannot possibly contain all that we desire and then tire of

there’s only so muchtime to get itdown, to get itdone, to do it. the land moverstarts moving landin the morning,when fistlegally allowed.this is asmall town,but still there arestatutes andordinances. stillthere are timeswhen even wedeem explosive removalof earthto be toomuch. toomuch, the flat tireproved to betoo much.it wasn’t therusted frameor thewindshield wipermotor thatabruptly seized.those could befixed;Continue reading “three bears shot to death and plastic cans cannot possibly contain all that we desire and then tire of”

i’m elated. i am terrified. i hope for what i see, when i get there

it’s hard for meto sit cross-legged. i sit cross-leggedon a hard wooden floor.my legs quiver,taught in their bend.the floor,wooden,softened by asmall cushionmade of buckwheat.earlier, i hadworried, “i havenothing moreto say”. a jackhammerprods meat my back.it may as well bea woodpecker. i place a glassof water at mywooden side,floored, andmake mental noteof its presence.soon after,i stand,Continue reading “i’m elated. i am terrified. i hope for what i see, when i get there”

i’m told i should edit so i look across the channel at the broken hillside//the vacancy of trees//the motionless machines

heart, i have lentyou to grieffor long enough.no, there is nothingwrong with grief,but for now i havebeen given only thisone heart,and it ought not stayswollen in looking poolsfor its entirety. grief, you aregolden on the hills?you are ochreon the plains?the rust, the rustat shoreline, refusefrom human endeavor gonestale, grief you arerust orange and glowingat theContinue reading “i’m told i should edit so i look across the channel at the broken hillside//the vacancy of trees//the motionless machines”

i keep forgetting i have frozen organic fruit in my small freezer until i shove it aside to cram in more ice cream

most times peoplecan’t tell when you talkto them from hell.most times you lookabout the same.well that’s a bitdramatic, isn’t it?to position yourselfsometimes in hell? walking through aparking lot madespacious and coolby its vehicular lack,a raven stands atopa rock. is that whatravens do, stand?i’ve not seen onelie down. can the ravensee me from my hell?a bitContinue reading “i keep forgetting i have frozen organic fruit in my small freezer until i shove it aside to cram in more ice cream”

speaking of failure is to a degree a failure so instead we speak of flowers that bloom independent of our meager measures

she is physically beautifulto me, so i wantto talk to her.i am made ofmeat and water,water, a powerfulconductor of electricity.what portion of this meatis made of desire, oris desire that which isconducted? atop water,floating, we briefly walk,she and i. she,a stranger to me,and i, only strange. a friend commented,“it’s really heavy”,and yes, my pants tendContinue reading “speaking of failure is to a degree a failure so instead we speak of flowers that bloom independent of our meager measures”

i was three days sober in a Minnesota campground and an unseen nocturnally barking dog drove me into a field and left me there alone

a woman in Alaska,her face framedby short cut thickblack hair, sits framedin the window of a truck.i have seen herseveral times;on the dock,on a boat,in a truck.my eyes, framedbetween whispered rowsof lashes, see herin her framingof thick short cutblack hair. a blonde womanfills her 2-doorHonda hatchbackwith gas, ata highway gas stationin Minnesota.she has long honeyblondeContinue reading “i was three days sober in a Minnesota campground and an unseen nocturnally barking dog drove me into a field and left me there alone”

blades on Eddie Bauer//~//competition i devour

i’ve been beingcool. i’ve beenbeing coolmy whole life. ol’ boy herein a tiny townon a massive islandon this good goddamnedspinning wobbling tiltingsphere, a decade ago,maybe two, he put 20inches of chrome on theEscalade. ol’ boy sellsfurs! in a town of 8500year-round residents and floating cities of Summer that belch and disgorge rumpledwobbling (no not likeContinue reading “blades on Eddie Bauer//~//competition i devour”

the difference between a fjord and a bay is the way the tongue folds itself into the cleft between shadow and light

this version ofpeaceis so foreignto me.i still interpretit as“loneliness”. i was hurtwhen i learnedthe womanwho agreed with me,“yes,i don’t wantkids now,either”, waspregnant.a shift this suddenless about,“change”, andmore aboutwhat we allowourselves tobelieve. and thispeaceis so foreignto methat i stillinterpret myfeeling as“hurt”. it is not. i rode my bicyclemoderatelyinto the scarified dazzleof a glacial fjord,thinkingof value.all aroundContinue reading “the difference between a fjord and a bay is the way the tongue folds itself into the cleft between shadow and light”

someone in Japan “followed” my social media page and i think Japanese people are smarter than Americans and i know that isn’t true and know i think a lot of things that aren’t true, or; curb your enthusiasm season 7 episode 6

it is evening and Summeris still Summer. sunsethere on this postage stampof globe, isn’t until 940pm.i received a letter today,it bore a postage stamp.the service that brings methis letter, is failing. someof its failing is becauseit is comprised of humans,and humans faileven when they try very hardnot to. and some of this failing isbecause someContinue reading “someone in Japan “followed” my social media page and i think Japanese people are smarter than Americans and i know that isn’t true and know i think a lot of things that aren’t true, or; curb your enthusiasm season 7 episode 6″

i would like a discount on a credit card reader and as this want has gone unheeded, i decide to deride those who have found capitalistic success

morning,made shy bywindow coverings.a pair of blackshorts. a black t-shirt.a looped length ofgray wool. i covermy windows tokeep out the light. when i wasyoung, someof the churchesi attendedprovided headcoverings forthe attendingwomen. women,so often asked,“attend to”. fascinating, bitsof lacy cloth,the women alreadywith hair so long,still they areasked, “covermore”. is god reallyso bright? perhapsgod is onlyshy, preferringContinue reading “i would like a discount on a credit card reader and as this want has gone unheeded, i decide to deride those who have found capitalistic success”

i watched a 13 year old girl of less than 100 pounds kick the face clean off another, terrified, i have been scrabbling like a duck ever since

thank youfor your wishesof kindness. i waketo a mutteringand obliquehell,as i havefor most ofmy life.this is notwhat i thinki would preference,were i betterable tounderstandhow to wieldmy “choice”. perhapsi will learnto interpretmy environmentin ways thatregister lesshellishlyandhowlingin myinternalworld. i amluckyandthankful forthe continuedopportunityto practice. “how is theharbor thismorning?” iam asked.“are youglisteningwith sweat?”,is my reply.the harbor,it isdimpled andchattering.the sweat,itContinue reading “i watched a 13 year old girl of less than 100 pounds kick the face clean off another, terrified, i have been scrabbling like a duck ever since”

seams split, fabric fades and comes back vividly

walk through a parkinglot, mountains inthe distance aheadof me, mountainsunder unfathomable gallonsof ocean behind me.talk with a mani only ever knewas a teenager,and i disappear. return to the gaspthat i currently inhabit,look at parcels offor-sale land,in a state many thousandsof miles away,and i disappear. in that sameparking lot, the onewith the grown upteenaged man,men sitinContinue reading “seams split, fabric fades and comes back vividly”

it looks very inviting

a man, walking bywith coffee in his warm hands,stops into the small shopi am in, saying,“the window looksmore open and bright,it looks very inviting”. i help a woman. i help hermove some appliances.the cleave of her assshows from under slippedcoverage of her jeans.good-naturedly, shemakes a joke abouther mild exposure. i listen to musicmost of theContinue reading “it looks very inviting”

i worked in a wine shop with an Italian man who would say with a shrug, “for me, it is good”

make itmorepalatable. i caveman builta wooden boxto house collectedwine. aloneon a Thanksgivingafternoon andturkey-stuffedwith thanks,i opened bottleafter bottle,the giddiness of whichbrought me toerasure.the wooden box,square hands andsmall round nails,gathered dustand vacancy,as the wine icontinued to ingestgrew in bottle sizeand plummetedin price. make itmorepalatable,maybe morewill find itappealing. a woman tellsme of herabandonment, soof course i respondwith BushwickContinue reading “i worked in a wine shop with an Italian man who would say with a shrug, “for me, it is good””

the girl i don’t know at all is here and she is my nemesis and wouldn’t you know it but she has that golden down snap neck coat just like i’ve always coveted

i think i’m manicagain, i think i thinki think i thinktoo muchand i think i’mmanic again.not psychotic, nonot that, i thinki’m manic again. two women walkby, both beautifuland memanic and ona bike andtwo women walkby and bothbeautiful and bothcutting the airwith suchappropriate dexterity,clad in bodiesand bodies clad inwool and down andjust the right amount ofmessContinue reading “the girl i don’t know at all is here and she is my nemesis and wouldn’t you know it but she has that golden down snap neck coat just like i’ve always coveted”

most of my friends don’t have time to talk so instead i talk to dreams

people in positionsof traditional leadershiprarely lead inany meaningful way. most politicians aresoaked and greasedin cowardice. wealthy and famouspeopleare most oftendisfigured to soullessness. the graveyard is fullof the unmarked gravesof true saints,those with the biggesttombstone, mostoften only bones.

my friend Rick in Washington who i have never met and do not know at all was supposed to send me an email confirming the reality of a 10 pound box of tart red cherries, dried.

we havevery specific preferences in howwe communicate;give me eyes, give mepupils. give metwitching tongue andgive me tidal swellof chest. no, giveme words and give methoughts, give me spacefrom the cascade ofyour chemicals. have you heardthe boulders rollunseen down a glacial paleblue river? like teeth,like teeth clicking,in the mouth of thatbeautiful human whoyou have built aContinue reading “my friend Rick in Washington who i have never met and do not know at all was supposed to send me an email confirming the reality of a 10 pound box of tart red cherries, dried.”

people walk by on the dock, looking into my windows. mostly, when we see each other, they quickly avert their swimming pool’d eyes

i do not knowhow this plumbingworks, in a floatinghome made of plastic.40 years old, not sobad for a scatter ofplastic and steel,ballast to keepthat which we deem“top”in its rightful position. it is an attempt toright myself, followingtubes to their hidden coil.there are tanks in thishome, tanks to keepmy waste separate frommyself. if the hearthad aContinue reading “people walk by on the dock, looking into my windows. mostly, when we see each other, they quickly avert their swimming pool’d eyes”

odd electronic music from Japan, black coffee from Guatemala, beguiling human body from a confused planet

even dreadhas its excitement. wake to dread,yes,and wake toexcitement of beingalive. so muchpossibility in thisnothingness! still i suffer as stilli hope; a cupof coffee withan old friend,the absurdity ofmodern communication,sending outelectric fingersinto the ether,hopingto find the textureof connection. a few hours inand excitement,hope,have succumbedto deadening fatigueof dread,disappointment. the lolling lullof middling day’sflaccid middle,it stretcheswhen oneContinue reading “odd electronic music from Japan, black coffee from Guatemala, beguiling human body from a confused planet”

the theme of the week is “hot” and the theme of the month is “pride” and the theme of the day is “neither cold nor shameful, but mild and fatigued”

in the parking lotwith the 12 portly black rubberdumpsters, a manpulls up in his beaten graygas wheezing vehicle. he opens all 4doors and liftsthe large rear door,it sags like the man’spants. quickly, furtively,he deposits thick plasticbag after skin-sagging bagof his refuse into parking lotdumpsters, who do notprotest his gifts. are they greedy,these dumpsters?are they insatiable?orContinue reading “the theme of the week is “hot” and the theme of the month is “pride” and the theme of the day is “neither cold nor shameful, but mild and fatigued””

emptying a tube of silicone onto the toe rail of a sailboat in an effort to stop a chronic leak ahead of an impending rain storm

every day is a nice day walking in a parking lot,its mouth opento the grease and gruntof a public harbor,i walk past two humansand one dog,all three of which i know–though do we ever reallyknow another? aside: the lastwoman who said she loved me–aren’t we supposed toknow those we love?–she one day got in aContinue reading “emptying a tube of silicone onto the toe rail of a sailboat in an effort to stop a chronic leak ahead of an impending rain storm”

mostly i write so i can titularly quote Denis Johnson, and mostly i wake to ocean so as to know how to breathe

i know a man, know that heexists, though know little elseof him. buti know he exists, andi know he workson the rotting wood of his agedhome, in some small startleof land in central Vermont. hetakes care to take wood rottedinto lace and encourage it away.a huff and a sigh, woodwould delight in its dusted dance.unknownContinue reading “mostly i write so i can titularly quote Denis Johnson, and mostly i wake to ocean so as to know how to breathe”

if i drink a cup of coffee at 1030am well surely i’ll be fucked but since when have i ever lacked courage for bad decision?

we do not praisethe lord, no,not the lord.we praise our lord,the lord who lookslike us and agreeswith us and employs usin the violent ranksof righteous indignation.we praise our lordwhether this lordswims beneatha microscope lens orfloats somewhereabove us,but not thateffeminate floatingof an ornate andlargely flightlessbird, no,our lord,should this lordbe positioned aboveus, floatsthe way a confusedcow breaksContinue reading “if i drink a cup of coffee at 1030am well surely i’ll be fucked but since when have i ever lacked courage for bad decision?”

this State contains mountain and coastline and rainforest and desert and city and village and homestead and condo and boat and plane and many method of wheel and right now my roof is covered in rain

why have you made,why do you make,the choices you did,you do?why do you failso thoroughly?why are you poor?why are you alone?why do you fill your bodywith such emptiness?why are you addictedto uglinessand why doyou make yourselfugly?what is wrongwith you? there is nothingwrong with me, iam tryingto heal. sister brother fathermother lonely cousinlovely aunt drunkenuncle woolenContinue reading “this State contains mountain and coastline and rainforest and desert and city and village and homestead and condo and boat and plane and many method of wheel and right now my roof is covered in rain”

i bought a milk foamer from a company in Singapore but was unhappy with the cheap plastic materials and lack of provided batteries so i wrote an email to them and complained

hello!human being?yes,human being,hello! look!my handis free ofweapon, andis not balled intoa small, thoughstill effective,means of harm.i see you aredoing the same—thank you!i feelmarginallymore safe.say,look at that!an animal isattached toa length ofmaterial!you carry thismaterial in yourhand! haha! you are controllingthe movements ofthis animal!this animal,tell me, humanbeing, this animal,has it beenselectively bredover thousands ofyears to be smallinContinue reading “i bought a milk foamer from a company in Singapore but was unhappy with the cheap plastic materials and lack of provided batteries so i wrote an email to them and complained”

betony, betony, wood betony to calm down, down there in the moon’s mud, where there is only creation, never “good” nor “bad”

i have notdisabused myself ofthe habitof making myselfmonstrous. was it the gooddoctor, Hunter,who said that?something about havingto make ourselfinto monster?did the velvetand tree-sap brainof my teenagedplanetary yearshungrily suck atthe words of thosei admired, evenin my flagrant hatefor all who claimsome form ofauthority? didimis-understand? yes, likely,yes,my tongue— i reference itfrequently,lewdly,monstrously —my tongue isathletic, yes,still yes,though onlyaverage;itContinue reading “betony, betony, wood betony to calm down, down there in the moon’s mud, where there is only creation, never “good” nor “bad””

“i’ll probably never leave. is this strange? yes, wonderful and strange. the blades of the pasture stopped in the sun have had all the life cooked out of them by the drought–all the hope, the strength to grow, to suffer–and now”

i cannot wake upso i can; drinkcoffee until i can’tsee and burnincense until i amblind. i wake up soi cannot; drinkcaffeine until my eyesare turned to lakesand engulf your body insidemy senses. is thissenseless, is thisincensing, to wantyour round hip undermy flat hand?a mirror pond,eyes in the centerof glassy palms,light notnecessary for allpursuits of perception.inContinue reading ““i’ll probably never leave. is this strange? yes, wonderful and strange. the blades of the pasture stopped in the sun have had all the life cooked out of them by the drought–all the hope, the strength to grow, to suffer–and now””

it isn’t really safe to touch people and i don’t much participate in casual physical contact and there is a dog on the dock just a few boats down from mine and i can still get a little shooting star of oxytocin if i pet this dog as i go trundling by

i lurch and shudderas i walk. no,that’s not quite right.i walk with a gangsterlimp, mid-90’sChicago in my stutteringstep. no,this is also inaccurate. i do move my body,yes, do moveit along a dock,lately, currently,atop current. inhale.juvenile fish make cutein their dimpling,exhale andoil-sheen’d harborwater moon walks on out.i do walk, thoughi am not sure exactlyhow, i doContinue reading “it isn’t really safe to touch people and i don’t much participate in casual physical contact and there is a dog on the dock just a few boats down from mine and i can still get a little shooting star of oxytocin if i pet this dog as i go trundling by”

my man Mike judges himself against a backdrop of slaughter; you catch one, he catches infinity

“You talk to Everyone!” “i try to be kind to people, and say hello and shoot the brief breeze, but i don’t actually “talk” to many people, and when i do, we don’t discuss fishing gossip.” “the vast majority of my life, i am alone with my own thoughts. it is a lonely life, yes,Continue reading “my man Mike judges himself against a backdrop of slaughter; you catch one, he catches infinity”

“There’s nothing left of the sky. Nothing. Why is that so beautiful?”

wake to anger, wake to painwake to blue skies ripened to rain wake to quiet, wake to peacewake to furrowed forehead canyon crease wake to tapping, wake to dreamwake to silent paralytic scream pointed finger, painted face?heart of concrete, skin of lace? wake to sorrow, wake to losswake to glacial, body of moss wake toContinue reading ““There’s nothing left of the sky. Nothing. Why is that so beautiful?””

whitewater rafting in eastern Tennessee, well, that’s just something i have not done

today’s table is fourconfident sea otterson a dock borrowed frommorning. today’s tableis a light blue fiberglass deck,a sailboat, the colorsreminding of popularitycontests from years long agorecycled into today. today,too and again, alreadymolting into quietcomfort of obsolescence.today’s table is rhubarbgrown in my mother’s back yard,picked by her hands, cleaned,baked sweetly into a pie.patience, my ever-young child,evenContinue reading “whitewater rafting in eastern Tennessee, well, that’s just something i have not done”

“purple thang, gold hammers, yeah you clean as hell fool”

it is only Mayin Alaskaso dusk comesat a time ofdusk.writing this,in June,dusk does not arriveuntil evening haslong past stretcheditself athletically intonight.but in Maydusk arrives atdusk. a walk alonga small harbor,clad in woolen longsleeve and greencoat of goose,maybe duck.a man, i knowhis name thoughi do not really knowhim. he had a pastsexual relationshipwith a woman ionceContinue reading ““purple thang, gold hammers, yeah you clean as hell fool””

coffee is poured into a glass jar that once contained ghee in an effort to liquify the remnants of its solidity

early morningin the harborand the fog hasn’t yetburnt off.it never does really everburn, not herein this rainforest,beneath phlegmatic lungof our layered sky.a sea lion eruptshuffing wetly in the channela few feet from me,a salmonin its whiskered jaws.i am brieflystartled and the sealion is triumphantin its atavistic pedigree,enthusiastically whippingits head, rippingthe salmon, swallowinga bite of fish’sContinue reading “coffee is poured into a glass jar that once contained ghee in an effort to liquify the remnants of its solidity”

inappropriate emails formed from formica and wood and eternities of water

the fresh water pumpleaks. when i movedon board, the smallcloset spacein my sleeping berthwas inches full ofwater. the impact with anuncharted rock, that shookboat, yes, but alsobones, soul,the impactjostled and loosened40 year old fiberglass.it split the 4foot tall rudder.it cracked the oilpan of Perkinsdiesel engine.oil still stainsthe wooden floorlike blood. i coverit with carpet andthink,Continue reading “inappropriate emails formed from formica and wood and eternities of water”

wool, felted and merino, for windows and for bed; are these prices that i can afford? is life for labor, and if so, what will be born of it?

it isa grayling morningin a southeast harbor.i am hollow,ghostlyin plastic,wombof a sailing vessel.its sails are tucked away.i know nothow to use them, evenif unfurled in grandeurof utility.a small wood firechuffs agreeable heatin a tiny woodstove.a dehumidifier quietlyroars, tasked to keepall this eager waterat bay. perhaps, atharbor.the morning isgrayand i amghost;caffeine cajoles meto rapidly completemy ministrationsContinue reading “wool, felted and merino, for windows and for bed; are these prices that i can afford? is life for labor, and if so, what will be born of it?”

“The compassion of the undifferentiated body of no-cause comes burning forth”, or; “can we even let go of our out-breath?”

a young human,in that torrential timeof wild wonder and daily expansion,walks with confidencethrough the toothless courtyardof a Chicago Public Housing Authoritycomplex, squareon the South Side shoulderof that broad and segmented city.it is 1996 and sothe strutting youth is lookingboth sharp and flyin cobalt blue denim,from collar to below knee cap.long for shorts, but shortsnonetheless. iContinue reading ““The compassion of the undifferentiated body of no-cause comes burning forth”, or; “can we even let go of our out-breath?””

afternoons feel aggressive so days are marked, of course, by punctuation, or; rainwalkin’ puddle-guppy on a peculiar planet

i read a story about a manwho unwittingly tossed his mindinto the gape of insanity.he was able to retrieve it,this mind, his brief possession,and so we can read his storywithout ourselves being lostin vanishing pain.in his story, his insanitywas recognized in his inabilityto keep from crying. i’ve accumulatedun-vetted particulatesof information, over andthroughout the softening spreadofContinue reading “afternoons feel aggressive so days are marked, of course, by punctuation, or; rainwalkin’ puddle-guppy on a peculiar planet”

a leaky freshwater pump has my mind flooded with phantom springs, or; i mock my friends because i love them and even at 40 i still have love and pain confused

the woman on the phonetells me that my call isimportant. the womanon the phone is arobot. middling managersmake more moneywhen robots do the dirtywork of telling people to remainon hold, remain on hold,remain on hold,your call is important. youare important and we haveprogrammed this robotto tell you, tellyou so, tell youso. exasperatedand exhausted, bothcaller andContinue reading “a leaky freshwater pump has my mind flooded with phantom springs, or; i mock my friends because i love them and even at 40 i still have love and pain confused”

the harbor is slick with oil just as the stiff plastic sheeting around the cockpit of this sailboat is slick with cloud. ruinous oh ruin, i stay dry in a dream forest of rain

were there a lectern topound, upon iti would pound. but what of it,this effluvial expressionof rage?what of thismisnamed masculinityembeddedin my skin? choking onindoctrination we plasticplay with the formgiven us by pastprophets, domineersalways take, givingin return onlypuckered husksof truthful instruction. and so now thislectern that i do not standbehind well i havepulverized it to dust. isContinue reading “the harbor is slick with oil just as the stiff plastic sheeting around the cockpit of this sailboat is slick with cloud. ruinous oh ruin, i stay dry in a dream forest of rain”

potatoes roasted in bacon grease make the small vessel warm and close and erotic

i idled many monthsin the vacant homeof a woman, strange.she left meinstructions. howto: connect to herinternet. which plantsto water and when.the quantity of foodto be fed to her cats. i don’t like the saying,“i did my best”.it implies thatmaximum effortwas given, and i amstill a human who believesthat; death is the rewardfor our best. andContinue reading “potatoes roasted in bacon grease make the small vessel warm and close and erotic”

it’s a minus tide so the home expectorates most of its inhabitants into the saline dream of pools, briefly abandoned

i greet the catsin the morning,sing-song,as if they wereyoung children. theywide eyeandtail flickin the window.song birds driving themto contained madness. these cats don’t makethat clicking soundwhen they desiredeath. theyare mostly silent.one cathuffs comicallyin its coiled hopes. the cats stare at mebriefly, perhapsconfused by theblunt shadow ivaguely cast on their felinekingdom.they do not respondfurther to myContinue reading “it’s a minus tide so the home expectorates most of its inhabitants into the saline dream of pools, briefly abandoned”

i don’t think (our soul knows or cares at all about our veneers), or; bone dry in a forest of rain

melanin is notinherently malignant,and pigment needs neitherpride nor derision. we are all of us artists,peacock feathersin our hands, paintingour ravenous canvases,flesh only slaked by the sweettender toothsomeness of flesh.dipping our skins,animal, into narcotic vatsof Culture and Meaning.fresh from womb,your skin does nothingto dictate a preferencein music or food.the swell and slackof your lips are inContinue reading “i don’t think (our soul knows or cares at all about our veneers), or; bone dry in a forest of rain”

typically the rain collected in buckets placed at the terminus of gutter is enough to water plants in the greenhouse

and what do you doin the confused lightof a failing face? we get a shuffled deck of years,most of us. agingknees in a public park,a settlinginto our seats. dry feet take so muchoil, as if we don’t alreadyslipon our wandering tread. gravity takesthe statue of our grandfatherand stoops him;terrified people,mostly men,bellowfrom the woundedcave of theirContinue reading “typically the rain collected in buckets placed at the terminus of gutter is enough to water plants in the greenhouse”

Spiritual Materialism on a planet of manufactured poverty

skimming overwhat i just wrote you,it seems evidentthat i am missing somepieces today.i seem unable tocommunicate clearly.a fracturing has occurred. perhaps this precedesa re-assemblage?perhaps i will againtake form as somethingrecognizable?maybe i ought not hopeso, no. ishould rather desirea new form.or, at leastsomethingslightly different. at every impossible,phenomenalmoment,a cleaving.with every steptaken, a path.

“The Beatles are better than the entire genre of Jazz”, and, “if you don’t like Radiohead, you don’t like music”, and other hyperboles

send me somesuggestionsfor weirdo glitchand heart-full ambientthat is also maybeheart-emptyand also maybeheart-brokenand also of course justmaybe not of heartat all. we human-centric humans,obsessing over the heart.the heart, which we do noteven often authenticallyrepresent.we round it and sharpen itand task it to commerce,twisting it to participatein yet another ofour charades. “the economy of heart,yes oh humanContinue reading ““The Beatles are better than the entire genre of Jazz”, and, “if you don’t like Radiohead, you don’t like music”, and other hyperboles”

my friend is my brother though we do not share a braid of blood and he laughs at me for my wrecked nervous system and his laughter is of a timbre that is silent and is love

i need to findthe measuring tapeto measure the white plasticsandwich board thati two weeks ago painteda matte black so pleasingin its opacity thatwere it a holei would wedge and prymyself inside so as to allowit absorption of my light,transmute it,gently emit it. not this energy ofmy current emittance,this energy is woundingin its insistence. oh howlingContinue reading “my friend is my brother though we do not share a braid of blood and he laughs at me for my wrecked nervous system and his laughter is of a timbre that is silent and is love”

“A child stands like a priest under his father’s sky. Why do you fate me to fail you?”

a tiny woodstoveanda toiletone has topump by handanda waterlinethat is justright up thereat eye-lineandif you keeplooking upmore often than notyou seeperhaps not theerotic lithe bodyof ocean butraindropswhich really areeach and alleroticand litheandocean

Fim the Fool Man Failure, or; the words are assembled in different patterns and then employed without pay

the clouds have returnedto southeast Alaska,much like whales,humpback and gray,who have also returnedto our surroundingbays and channels,our inlets and ocean’swide open yawn.but we had a weekof clear skies priorto their yesterday-eveninghomecoming, and soyesterday afternooni was pale but singingfrom the sun,as i worked scraping oldpaint off an even olderwooden trolling boat,and then cooled by animbus embraceasContinue reading “Fim the Fool Man Failure, or; the words are assembled in different patterns and then employed without pay”

my man out in Vermont hauls his syrup with draft horses and a wagon and this reminds me of a woman who was much shorter than i but could outrun me both sprinting and in marathon

the average doctorin americaspends between 7 and11 minutes with a patient.7 to 11 minutes toproperly diagnoseand treata human life. i think;the human body andbrain often posses thepower to self-heal,that what we lackisn’t ability, no,but belief. we use doctorsand shamans andgurus and mysticsas avenues of allowance,needing permissionfrom someone we perceiveas an authority,in order to heal.and iContinue reading “my man out in Vermont hauls his syrup with draft horses and a wagon and this reminds me of a woman who was much shorter than i but could outrun me both sprinting and in marathon”

i may not like the Kool-Aid Man, but as i have aged, i have learned to respect him

yesterday wasroot and berry,leaf and flower.today issingle-origincoffee beans grownin Guatemala,roasted in Brooklyn.a handmade mugfrom Vermont,a small wooden table,in Alaska.soon, thisvery home willdematerialize. it willstill exist,its imperceptibly swayingstructure andthe quiet yearning ofexhalations emittedwhile it allowed meinhabitance, butit will no longer wearthe moniker of “home”.that will driftand float downto the docks,on to a fiberglass sailboatborn in theContinue reading “i may not like the Kool-Aid Man, but as i have aged, i have learned to respect him”

every day i am aware of my own limited capability, or, when people talk about me they don’t talk at all

it’s snowingand blowing 30butthis is Alaskabut this isSpringbut this is a rainforestbut it rainsa lot but we are readyfor suneven those of usmore inclined towardsa moonand we live herefor a reasoneven if our reasonsaren’t such that we feelcomfortable sharingso we come up withreasons to sharethat we feel are morepalatable as we ourselveshope that others mayContinue reading “every day i am aware of my own limited capability, or, when people talk about me they don’t talk at all”

i ordered a handmade shirt from an artist online and we are in a pandemic even though some people think it’s all a hoax and this pandemic has brought mail service to a pace leaky and sputtering

i order shirts and then forgetabout them. i order shirtsand then they show upin my mail andi don’t know what they are. i don’t have my ownmailbox as i don’t have my ownhome. i lived in atiny converted garagefor a year and there i hadmy own mailbox.then i movedto an old and uninsulated cabinon aContinue reading “i ordered a handmade shirt from an artist online and we are in a pandemic even though some people think it’s all a hoax and this pandemic has brought mail service to a pace leaky and sputtering”

trying to paint a sailboat while it’s up on blocks and its shelter made of tarps gets thrashed by the giddy Spring winds, gleeful with snow, howling with pleasure at our toil

when you’re not sober you forgetwhy you get high.you get highbecause you are not soberand you get high becauseyour day is made of bonesand these bonespulsate and quiver fromtheir marrow tothe resonant clink oftheir outermost layer.quiver and warble and hum andsigh for flesh in which to hide.you get high becauseyou need somewhere to goand somethingContinue reading “trying to paint a sailboat while it’s up on blocks and its shelter made of tarps gets thrashed by the giddy Spring winds, gleeful with snow, howling with pleasure at our toil”

yesterday i wore a different title so today you turn from me at a mountainside stream and hide your flesh as you place a dry shirt atop your galloping skin

the sky is quilted. it isblanketed and woolen.the sky is gray and it iswhite. no, that’s not right.the sky is empty.and overflowing.it is jawbreaker velvetpurple and brand newbaby blue, so lightit seeps into your eyes fora quick licking taste.the sky is companionable,giving unassuming home toa chorus of clouds. clouds,a ubiquity herein southeast Alaska. clouds,today theyContinue reading “yesterday i wore a different title so today you turn from me at a mountainside stream and hide your flesh as you place a dry shirt atop your galloping skin”

a woman with straight black hair who used to work for a concert promoter responds to my email seeking label design help and then disappears

had i moreenergy, i’d commenton the smallwooden table. were i not furtive likethe small pale blondecat currently wolfingand then feline fleeing,i would mentionthe unseen mountains,the quilted coverof cloud. i poured my liquidmeat into the gigglingjiggle of morning job,and now i amvacant. i refill withwater; in homage toleaking sky?in deification ofescapingsalts? were i a humanof moreresoluteContinue reading “a woman with straight black hair who used to work for a concert promoter responds to my email seeking label design help and then disappears”

too needy for asceticism i fill my belly with lentils and tea and watch the clouds show off in hail and sleet and rain

i am unsure. i feellike Spring, i suppose;a transition of energy. this planet is fullof liquid molten movingrock. hard plates sit atopliquid, giving us a senseof permanence, solidity.we plant our flags,ever forgetful of whatwe claim to be,in this lithe land.the body, alsoa planet. it’s curious to me, to try to growand encouragepositive human connectionand community,whileContinue reading “too needy for asceticism i fill my belly with lentils and tea and watch the clouds show off in hail and sleet and rain”

i ordered a pizza with shrimp on it and it isn’t yet ready to pick up so i stoop over a wooden table and try to put words to the bubbling butterflies in my chest

imagine justlikebeing real good at cards.likeshuffling and card tricks andstuff. and thenlikeyou justlikehave your own card companywhere you makespecial custom decksof cards. andthey sell well enoughonline that basically you justmess aroundenjoying your cards andthen design new decks andboom,you pay all your billsthat way. andyou justlikego on jogs to staysemi-fit and enjoymessing with cards and justlikekindContinue reading “i ordered a pizza with shrimp on it and it isn’t yet ready to pick up so i stoop over a wooden table and try to put words to the bubbling butterflies in my chest”

i feel a bit sheepish for my morning frustrations, so i wash some dishes and hope that a clean kitchen might warmly spread its cleanliness into my smudged soul

today the sky asks forno companion other thanbird and beam.clouds are notunwelcome, thoughalso not taskedwith constance;today is for streaking blueand uninhibited bird. the late Winter snow, ormaybe it is now early Spring?whatever this snow is,it is also snow.and in the freely flowing sun,it changes form. we,too, change form.from human to animaland back again.our cells opentoContinue reading “i feel a bit sheepish for my morning frustrations, so i wash some dishes and hope that a clean kitchen might warmly spread its cleanliness into my smudged soul”

i met a woman on a farm and later she became my roommate and still later my friend, and she met a man who became her friend and eventually her husband but before they married he and i became friends and he wrote me an email quoting a writer who seemed familiar to me yet i could not place

some days i amdepressedand it is hard to function. some days i ammanicand it is hard to function. some days i amneutraland it is hard to function. every day,i function.i am unsureas what.

modern Capitalism is decrepit and moldering so i sell myself in a grant application and wait for the smell to turn sweet

in February i am againat a wooden table. it isdark inside because it isoutside dim. outside it islight gray, inside it it isdark white. unsureof what to do, i thinkmaybe i might want sex.unsure of what i want, Februaryrains and then hails.it sounds itself into a truckon the street, with its rumblingagainst the roof. itContinue reading “modern Capitalism is decrepit and moldering so i sell myself in a grant application and wait for the smell to turn sweet”

a camera on a tripod points at me so i think thoughts about my soul and its tin-cup rattling desire for…escape?

my father sat silentlyin a chair, mostly. mostlyhe sat silently.sometimeshe sighed. i recall himlaughing, too.i tried to find love with awoman who told me,“your desire to findthings causes them todisappear”. she said thisas she slowly fled. in a torrent of words idenude myself,bringing focus toa wavering,my outline. is anything still? if we look closely,isn’t everythingContinue reading “a camera on a tripod points at me so i think thoughts about my soul and its tin-cup rattling desire for…escape?”

it was supposed to be a silent meditation but instead i rambled on for nearly 20 minutes while others sat waiting and silent

for a long time i did not likeanything that i wrote. and then,a short period of pause.or, perhaps it was apunctuation-my words became less.vulgar and,threatening. threatless; today the ground is coveredin last night’s hail, roundas a coughing throat. this morning’srain fills the spaces betweencollections of ice, scatteredabout the ground.a murmur of breeze andrain makes aContinue reading “it was supposed to be a silent meditation but instead i rambled on for nearly 20 minutes while others sat waiting and silent”

i read a Zen Buddhist story about a man who sells his art for money and is ridiculed by other monks until they find out what he wants the money for

i’ve no expectationto make any moneyfrom “art”.certainly not poetry.i wander androam and try to keepthe anxiety and despair frombuilding up too intensely. maybe some day i willwake up to a life that looksdifferent than this currentone. thoughi remember; i must be careful,for the athleticism ofa wishful tongue.today,as an example,i wake to an islandin southeast Alaska.itContinue reading “i read a Zen Buddhist story about a man who sells his art for money and is ridiculed by other monks until they find out what he wants the money for”

it snows lightly in Alaska and heavily in Texas and my man in Vermont adds compost to fallow gardens of my imagining

it’s mostlycloudy and wetin Sitka.the Tongass,a rainforest. i don’t mind, in fact often prefer a Summer day of 60 and mistyto one of 80 and bleached.a Winter day of40 and quiltedto one of 0 andsplintering. after a Winter mostly inthe 40s, withtyphoon after typhoon,we’ve for the last few daysbeen clear andcold.every evening around 4pm,i walkContinue reading “it snows lightly in Alaska and heavily in Texas and my man in Vermont adds compost to fallow gardens of my imagining”

fictitious friends depart as distant and blunted mountain tops pinprick me not into blood, no, but joy

last night a fat orange catwho sleeps inside with memore nights than not,now that the temperatureoutside has dippeditself into austerity,last night a fat orange catvomited on the unseen livingroom floor. lights off, bothinside and out,my own internal lightonly a smudge,casts cat vomit in shadesof absence. red-bearded and walkinggingerly, i fumbledfor wall’s grasp of electricity. weContinue reading “fictitious friends depart as distant and blunted mountain tops pinprick me not into blood, no, but joy”

tea in glass cup cools quickly as cooled body rapidly reheats

i float from desireto need to want todesire. i’ve fed myselffat and saltand carbohydrate andfiber, now i demandsweet. what is thisIthat dwellsinside us,demanding?not even our deitiesask so much. this morning a womanoffered me her ocean,asking me only for my time.desire swelled, takingtime into the growingcavern of its mouth.need kept meanchored, while timeunspooled its line. soonContinue reading “tea in glass cup cools quickly as cooled body rapidly reheats”

in absence of set screw, we slip. a taking on of water, inevitable

outside, it isblack dark and rainoblivion.orange streetlightsoccasionally smear smallblots of road,sidewalks where few chooseto trod. outsidethe wind isenthusiastic,taking jazz droprain and orchestratingit into rolling rounds.one chorusstarts its startand gathers into itsabate,a hissing pause,another volley ofsoaked voices takes itsplace. we aremost of usin our homes,owned or rented orborrowed. all of itstolen, near none of usthieves. aContinue reading “in absence of set screw, we slip. a taking on of water, inevitable”

i keep thinking there is something i am supposed to be doing which leads me increasingly to believe that this is it; it isn’t nihilism but it is nothing

yesterday wasa wooden boat.a steel anchor.an unsettled ocean,longing for the moon.a twenty eight inch Winterking salmon puts porkin the boat’s smallstove, puts diesel fuel in itsengine. lunatic seathrows itself liquid againstus, wooden marionettesin a floating capsule.the small stove flares brightfamous in a rolling flood of fuel.ocean reaches again for moon andboat slides into trough,stove gaspsContinue reading “i keep thinking there is something i am supposed to be doing which leads me increasingly to believe that this is it; it isn’t nihilism but it is nothing”

a 4000 mile distant friend talks with me for 2 hours through the computer and later in the day i learn something about the rise of an earthen moon

it used to be i liked to putcolorful socks on my feet.woolen, colorful, striped orblocked. covered in shoes,yes, but feet coveredin colorful wool. i put my feet, bare,on the morning carpet.my feet putting me to stand.it could stand a vacuuming,this yawning carpet. bundled socks in a rolled drawer,their color has bled to pale.these feet haveContinue reading “a 4000 mile distant friend talks with me for 2 hours through the computer and later in the day i learn something about the rise of an earthen moon”

skin as subterfuge; it flaps loosely on our flagpole bones

Sitka is on Baranof Island.this name, Baranof,an homage to the Russian whostole and savaged the land.indigenous people,historically and pejorativelyreferred to as “savage”,yet it is always the colonizers whodisplay true savagery. perched on this island’s western shore,we expand in our confinement.land all around us, we struggleto find it. the ocean makes usminiature, despite our feelingsof grandeur.Continue reading “skin as subterfuge; it flaps loosely on our flagpole bones”

“i have minimal needs. and now they are through with me.”

i do not know how topronounce your name.perhaps i’ve before said thisto you. perhapsmy mind warbleslike song bird.wouldn’t that bea kindness, anaspiration?a warbling mind,hollow bone’d andfluttering. oh mind,a processionof recession. desire,a New Orleans secondline funeral sashay.thoughmy forest is lighton trees, the treesthat exist, well,they are limbed,lithe, eroticand wobbling odd.shyin their bombastic breakdance,gusted andstarving. forgive memyContinue reading ““i have minimal needs. and now they are through with me.””

hell is on the hide-a-bed, generously allowing sleep and i some solitude

feeling under water, i walk throughforest towards the sea.hell intertwines its fingers with mineas we walk.a man exits his caras i approach the forested trail.he wears headphonesand pants that cinch at the ankle.he wears a vestand black running shoes. we enter the forestat the same time,an unfortunate byproduct of timing.hell, gripping tightly to me,grumbles andContinue reading “hell is on the hide-a-bed, generously allowing sleep and i some solitude”

i try to not be vengeful but still think mostly of jail

i imagine myselfin a beautiful house, thinkingi may be beautiful in it.i wear a coatthe color of gold, thinkingin it i may be of value.i own a bicycle andthree duffle bags.i own socksand underwear made fromwool. i own a coatimpervious to water,another meant to puff upwith my own warm air.i dream ofa wooded piece ofland,Continue reading “i try to not be vengeful but still think mostly of jail”

circling the drain might sound pejorative, but don’t we sometimes spin for delight?

born into a world of violence,both overt and peripherali have lived my life in fear. fear has made me angryand fear has made me sorrow’d.fear has made me meanand mean has piled upon mequilted comfort of further grief. i am hopeful, as i practicehopelessness, to learnthe shape of friendship.not so that i might banishfear, no,butContinue reading “circling the drain might sound pejorative, but don’t we sometimes spin for delight?”

i played football and my sister ran cross country and both of us wore bones hollow enough to toll like bells

every day i think my thoughts.i make my decisions,choose my choices.i have opinions andpreferences. i picka shirt, i pick twosocks. i decide if i amto wear bootsor sandals or stayslippered or bare.i think,“you are doing this right”or, sometimes,“everything you do is wrong”.neither, ever true. on a page we can writeour wrongs. tip of fingeror tipContinue reading “i played football and my sister ran cross country and both of us wore bones hollow enough to toll like bells”

i got a pair of used Patagonia shorts in the mail and all these suckers out here probably thought i couldn’t look any cooler

mildly, ways maybe mania might express: after months of eating up to 36 eggs every 30 days, you stop. and you only eat maybe an egg a week. maybe less. then you start eating them again. you sit at a table, it could be small or large or neither. maybe it is both, one ofContinue reading “i got a pair of used Patagonia shorts in the mail and all these suckers out here probably thought i couldn’t look any cooler”

if you think you are losing your mind, let it go. in the middle of the night toast sourdough bread in a toaster oven with raw milk Vermont cheddar cheese. let it go.

the computer this morning asks me:“Day 10. Are your dreams getting crazy yet?” the data device in my head,it aches more frequently.perhaps it is its housing that causesthe bright, high, sharp, silent, shriek. in response to querying computer,“i would say at this pointthe only thing i am feelinga stronger sense of isthe disquiet of myContinue reading “if you think you are losing your mind, let it go. in the middle of the night toast sourdough bread in a toaster oven with raw milk Vermont cheddar cheese. let it go.”

the post office is today closed so as to facilitate a more focused worship of our deities

i don’t think i havewhat i want. that used woolcoat, heather gray and richwith dreams, it will probably insulate mefrom my lack. the womanwith the black hair, ormaybe it’s auburn, she willfulfill me. i do not havewhat i want. the seed i plantedyesterday, yes, maybeit has bloomed. its stalk did not takeme from my desire,Continue reading “the post office is today closed so as to facilitate a more focused worship of our deities”

are your moons too dark? should we lighten to gray? does enough of the wood grain show through?

i shouldn’tdrink coffee. my mindalready chattering andfidgeting, yet herei wooden-table sit,drinking coffee. days stretch andshudder; meaningis elusive, loveseems onlyconceptual. i learnto translatetiny starbursts offleeting feelinginto what areperhapssubatomic particlesof joy. it is darkhere at thislatitude. it isbarren here in thisbrain. sometimesa field goesfallow. dormant,as it quietly quiltsto fecundity. rainis at your doorstep,seated stillwith a companionable cat.Continue reading “are your moons too dark? should we lighten to gray? does enough of the wood grain show through?”

terrified terrorists attempt a coup, while Georgia sings itself Blue

this is the year 2020 and we are in the last month of it.this is a year stained by pandemic,unkempt by howling human governance,delighted in its ineptitude.we like to tell stories aboutthe destruction of humanity, aboutanother triumphant disaster of nature,shooting stars lining up our spinning sphereagainst the firing squad wall. ornuclear war and our damnationContinue reading “terrified terrorists attempt a coup, while Georgia sings itself Blue”

a name poured out with a cup of afternoon coffee. now, both name and coffee, gone.

i am not going blind.it’s the time of year,not my eyes. i start to mumbleinto mild pre-panic,around 3pm.i squint to see. the sharpness of a day’s claws,grow fuzz like unwashed teeth.teeth, tombstonesfor the words we wishedwe’d not said, and those we wishedwe had. the mouth, suchan erotic graveyard. i am not using my tongue toContinue reading “a name poured out with a cup of afternoon coffee. now, both name and coffee, gone.”

we take the loop twice–next to ocean and up into muskeg–as our tongues are tireless in their walking

to own a dog is tosubject myself to anunmanageable amountof disappointment.not from the dog,no,but from me. i live on a flutteringisland in the warm southernspray of Alaska; peoplehere like to own dogsand like to walk quicklyup mountains. there are manybrown bears here; dogsalert human to bearandbear to human, avoidingembarrassment and carnage. i struggle to gatherenoughContinue reading “we take the loop twice–next to ocean and up into muskeg–as our tongues are tireless in their walking”

friends are sometimes daughters and sometimes fathers and sometimes existence is enough

i’ve only been aroundyou andyour sonsa middling amount.it hasalways struck me;how wonderfully youtreat them. i think a lotabout patternsand habits.and how for some(many? most?)we barely surviveour childhoods.and then have tounlearn so muchof the patterningthat we utilized in orderto survive.and i wonder at howaware we can become,those of us who werepatterned with morechronic negativity andviolence, toContinue reading “friends are sometimes daughters and sometimes fathers and sometimes existence is enough”

cannabidiol helps me sleep but nocturnal turns me wooden and wakes me heart-stiff

sitting in morningattempt, i meditateon the sound of heater.i focus onthe buzzing hum,a breath caughtbetweenthroat and mouth.a place that bringsno pain. i meditate onthe feeling of my bodyon the ground.difficultyof crossing my legs,pressurebuilds to painin ankle boneand knee.hip flexor andpelvic girdle.i amaware of pain,less so ofits location. the mindcreates pain andperceives it.meaning; painis both internalContinue reading “cannabidiol helps me sleep but nocturnal turns me wooden and wakes me heart-stiff”

my duties, near non-existent, still i neglect them

having no meaning is not a sad nor depressive state. it is one of coolness on forehead, when pressed to windowpane. outside Summer’s thunder-storm rages.  mote of dust.puff from floorboard.old wooden house,breathing.  meaninglessness is a hammock slung between two weeping willowsat pond’s edge.frogsburp and bark. insects buzz a sex-fueled song. wind caughtin tall Summer grasses, parting, brief glimpse of old tombstones. bodies underneathgreen dirt, long ago relieved oftheir earthly dance.

i drink coffee with my sister and then tea with her husband and then he leaves to go to sleep and she leaves to go talk with the woman who earlier this year was witness to my failing

Published in Anecdote Magazine Issue 01, please visit https://www.anecdotemagazine.com/shop to read.

steam from stovetop espresso maker puts rainbows brief on stone kitchen counter top

this spinning planet, it is both big and small. the perspective of inhabitant, creates its size.  and thesemomentsthat make up the breadth and width of our lives, each and every one, resplendent,with tireless possibility.  when you aredark, softlysit with shadow.when you arelight, gentlytend your sight. 

it’s Christmas in another week so i’m trying to gift myself an unwearing

the brain is a filter. it is a lens. the brain is a keen collector, an amasserof hoards. we humans think dimly of forgetting.we are proud of our brain, we like to display its collections.  on the edge of your ocean, breathing. on the skirts of your city, in an orange shadow of streetlight.  next to your muted field, out where the unseen highway only registers ascontented sigh.  across the avenuefrom yourContinue reading “it’s Christmas in another week so i’m trying to gift myself an unwearing”

the sun is up and all the lights are on but the town is still 5 o’clock shadow

i was yesterday mildly betrayed by a man who is no more than an acquaintance. he and i, of differing opinion, engaged in the modern sport of pointless internet “debate”. it was quickly evidentthat this man was of a differing capacity, though i was at this point already a forest on fire, my only options being; ash or suffocation.  there is no point to this little story, only that weContinue reading “the sun is up and all the lights are on but the town is still 5 o’clock shadow”

a friend criticizes me constructively so i won’t today speak of bruising but rather the humming absence in healing

i’m thinking of practicing intentional celibacy. including an abstention from solitary sexualpursuits. perhaps this practice might bring abouta better understandingof desire and need. now, i understand that i am difficult, even “mentally ill”. i strugglewith trust and self-worth,have habits of being harsh. habitsthat inevitably encouragepeople away. andthis is a postage stamp town, in a pandemic. andi’m an introvert with a hollow social circle; even in the healthiest ofContinue reading “a friend criticizes me constructively so i won’t today speak of bruising but rather the humming absence in healing”

a woman i disastrously dated years ago might send me garlic and i might still feel the familiar lick of fluttering flame

the sky has not yet begunits bruising; every morning a new opportunity, another chorus of reverent mourning. soon i will layer my body and foist it into the glisten of coastal rainforest November. i will drive a short while to a home perched on the edgeof a berried bay, sailboats tied to a moaning dock. i will move thousands of pounds of gravel, two buckets atContinue reading “a woman i disastrously dated years ago might send me garlic and i might still feel the familiar lick of fluttering flame”

the problem with humans is that our heart is made of water and wind

i feel so heavy in this chair. crushing, legs prick and tingle in the wake of fleeing blood.i feel so heavy in this body, thisbody, oh body which carries me, floats me, cradles me. and i amso heavy in it, swollen in the melt of mind’s vanishing glaciers.  the land we seek for safety, it is slowly rising. all this ice, it has tired of us. in itsContinue reading “the problem with humans is that our heart is made of water and wind”

“Is the flower beautiful because it is ephemeral or is there beauty in a flower as it is simply beautiful?”

of course, beauty is in the eye of the beholder. sometimes, like a pin. others, likean apple. i tend to be simple in my aesthete’s appetitesfor the floral; they appearpretty to me and soi leave it that.  i leave my body,at that. or,is that a body of hope, to persistently seek escape? we spin ourselves into sleep.we salt ourselves to salivating. we scrubContinue reading ““Is the flower beautiful because it is ephemeral or is there beauty in a flower as it is simply beautiful?””

i miss holding a human hand so instead hold handles of buckets filled with gravel

feeling foolish and meager, i write upon this page. perhaps this will inflate my flagging flesh? maybe my mind will still from its breeze of ineptitude? and what is it to feel flung andwrecked by relentless mutteringdoubt? is it ego that rides riffling winds,its false feathering turning to stone,at the sight of eagle and hawk? i see photos of alpine lakes and feel myself both buoyantContinue reading “i miss holding a human hand so instead hold handles of buckets filled with gravel”

volumes of time spent debating the merits of monogamy while single and celibate and alone

another morning in the brief home,the borrowed body seated at a wooden table. a seat cushion on a wooden chair, upholstered in the color of cream. it inspires a shufflingdread, this thin cushion,its surface given toan easy staining. this chair is not mineto stain; this body is mine to bruise, so i bruise it inContinue reading “volumes of time spent debating the merits of monogamy while single and celibate and alone”

Mind encourages Brain to see beyond the illusion of its Western border; a love letter

if i am to allow for this grief to be a failure in my creativity, then it seems permissive to view this sadness as an attack of the relentless heart. and yes, an attackingheart may culminate in death, though that is the end result of everybeginning, so why not revelin the fervency of conviction? walking through the shafted sunlightof this day, a dayContinue reading “Mind encourages Brain to see beyond the illusion of its Western border; a love letter”

my dad’s old dog used to go to its food dish over and over all day because its hope was inexhaustible

the small furtive cat is at the door. it is pale blonde.it mews to be let inside, where its food dish waits.its outside cry is that of hunger.  the small furtive cat, pale blonde andhungry, is nowinside. it is distrustful of me, instantly. in its need, it eats quickly and quicklyslinks to its hiding. the small furtive cat now feels a different hunger, that ofContinue reading “my dad’s old dog used to go to its food dish over and over all day because its hope was inexhaustible”

a new shirt makes me uncomfortable with my belly and it’ll take more practice to build the strength for tears

yesterday a friend asked me if i wanted to make a few bucks moving rocks. i asked for more details and she sent a picture of the rocks. the pictured rockslooked too big to move alone andby hand and without a level of exertion that outstripped my desire for twenty dollars. and so i said as much, to which she replied that her husband couldmove them by himself. her saying this botheredContinue reading “a new shirt makes me uncomfortable with my belly and it’ll take more practice to build the strength for tears”

a dog really does nip me on the leg! i really do flood and walk while waiting to dry!

this is a town of rain, not infrequent. i want to make mention of being vague, not in intention butin construct. i am unfitfor this desire, so insteadoval back to hoods. as this is, a town of rain. a hood turned up to keep rain from tenderness, that is my body. this is a town, infrequent and of rain.  with a hood upContinue reading “a dog really does nip me on the leg! i really do flood and walk while waiting to dry!”

cat eats breakfast while i drink coffee and listen to music and cycle thymic’ly

i am hopeful to beless hopeful. i am attempting to stop attempting. i am interested in fillingwith emptiness. i haveno words;  this is a town where people, mostlyfaded shuffling men, go out on boats. they pay for the rightto claim fishthat belong to no one. they claim these ownerlessfish as their own, paid for with pieces of shining singing soul. they catch these fish,fish, pulsing expressions of dreamsContinue reading “cat eats breakfast while i drink coffee and listen to music and cycle thymic’ly”

the girl with long black hair draws for me and from me

black raven upon frost white roof, though it is not black.  sun is high in the addicted sky, though it is coming down.  raven is brown and blood red. raven is purple and luxuriously bruised blue. sky is naked today, its erotic infinite belly stunned in the sun’s hungry hands.  we all feel starved for touch. pandemic and rainforest; introvert or extrovert ourContinue reading “the girl with long black hair draws for me and from me”

the census woman came to your door and she seemed a bit nervous and you wanted to cry

blossomed hanging baskets toddle inFall’s impatient breeze. wisps of this windcurl like cautious cats through the door leftajar, into your brief, temporary home. an oddknock on your door sends actual cats skittering through the door’s offered escape. you rise from your quietchair, gravity rolling in erotic circles from the uncommon visitor. you place yourself in its briefContinue reading “the census woman came to your door and she seemed a bit nervous and you wanted to cry”

perhaps what you thought to be your creativity was really just caffeine

earlier, maybe it was yesterday, i was going to write about love. but then i ate and became sleepy and fell in love with the narcotic yawn of a midday couch. i didn’t sleep, as we so often don’tsleep together, even when that is what we call it. no, i expressed my love for the couch by reading upon it, just as i wouldContinue reading “perhaps what you thought to be your creativity was really just caffeine”

i eat cheesesteak in a box Chevy to say thank you to black people in urban centers who save America even though America continues to want them dead

joy arrives anddeparts like hummingbird,in short,rapid bursts. duration,a meager measure of delight. you get in your car after walking back from the store. your upbringing mandatesyou park near oceans away from any desiredentrance; save proximity for those who suffer on shaky legs. the short walk in the long cold, arrives you to your car singing in frost. you start the car and turn the heatContinue reading “i eat cheesesteak in a box Chevy to say thank you to black people in urban centers who save America even though America continues to want them dead”

i mock my friends and alone laugh by myself

“beneath those stars, is a universe of gliding monsters”. remember when you saw it in their eyes? when the love vanished? she, if i’m to be vaguely specific, used to talkabout “air going out of her sails”. did i misunderstand this, or was i a possessor of the willfulignorance i accuse others of? sallow sail and a wandering, a sigh. let that sighContinue reading “i mock my friends and alone laugh by myself”

who needs exercise when there’s the hammer-jack trackstar heart of panic?

my confidence, oh confidence,it’s shattered. a bald eagle, ubiquitous in these parts like pigeon in strip mall parking lot, sits high atop a low building, wings askew. is it drying itself?is it in pain? does it hold its wing withthe same tenderness that i try to hold my fleeing head? put a hood up and listen to the lust of the rain. bury yourContinue reading “who needs exercise when there’s the hammer-jack trackstar heart of panic?”

my man is 41 and addicted to drugs and i saw him waiting out the rain under an awning

the brief house is tonight quiet. it’s quiet most every night. rain falls, Fall rain, in marching band intermittence, staccato and bassdrum rolls on the firmament of roof. it is lonely, yes,this flickering flash of fleshhoused in temporary hues,but it’s also cozy, to have a roof with which to be marched upon.but this isn’tMarch, it’s October.and this isn’t about sound, though of courseperhaps itContinue reading “my man is 41 and addicted to drugs and i saw him waiting out the rain under an awning”

i smell of creosote which makes me uneasy yet no less magic

i am prone to magical thinking. one definition of “prone” is to lay flat on the ground, typically face down. and one example of thinking, magically, is: i this morning write a short email to a womanin Philadelphia, a screen printerof shirts. the subject of the email is; will youprint for me on long-sleeve?the magical subtext is; will you fall in love with me? Continue reading “i smell of creosote which makes me uneasy yet no less magic”

vacuum sealer is loud on an otherwise distant Sunday morning

i stood alone in the shed of a man i befriended when i was 15 years old. he, allowing me access; his neatly organized shed, its faint smell of sweetness, marijuana and memory. drying pieces of coho salmon we, but mostly he, had caught a few days prior, preparingthem for the racks of his smoking house. i amcocooned in a vivdContinue reading “vacuum sealer is loud on an otherwise distant Sunday morning”

the suggested tears i borrow from the pig on my plate

maybe the reflex to cry when i am eating is a defense mechanism; the throatconstricting towards a choking,spasming breath in the ragged windpipes of my perfect musicalmachine. this is to keep mefrom overeating?  my addictions parseddown to food and emotion, the need to cry while eating, a sign of divinity—not God-like butjust perfect, like my musical machine. my grasp of semiotics is sparse, though, andContinue reading “the suggested tears i borrow from the pig on my plate”

the hops in the tea make it bitter and you worry you might break the chair

smell is a powerful tool, so you attempt its use. its ability to transport, for travel, for shifting your rigid meat into a spaceless barbed and buzzing. a whiff and remembrance swells (like ocean) and you remember (like ocean) that once you existed in different states. like New York and uncomfortable. like Alaska and unconscious. today you are mostly alivein panic, or sighing sweetly into sleep. outside of theseContinue reading “the hops in the tea make it bitter and you worry you might break the chair”

writing emails to musicians i like

in the photo she is slightlyinclined towards me, while i face the camera with an indirect directness. it’s tiresome, isn’t it? the cutesy use of dichotomy?  to incline indirectly, to recline without a loss of traction. and if  she is to be slightly inclined towards me, in that  quick stealing of soul,  than what might i extrapolate from that?with my slow snap ofContinue reading “writing emails to musicians i like”

feigning disappointment during pandemic

today i may rain-walk to a post office, a way to kill time. i could maybe go grunt some labor, carry materials and dig holes, though that’s a slaughtering i resist.  go earn some money, proveyour value. “you can’t work 36 straight hours with no sleep?!” chuffs the fading man on the fishing boat. what a fucking loser. go earn some money, prove yourContinue reading “feigning disappointment during pandemic”

life is for losers

i saw them live in Burlington. a woman i eventually orbited was at the show—months before we knew of each other’s existence. i still talk to her from timeto time, in fact justyesterday sent her a package of smokedfish. we were (andare) both tremendous in our mental illnesses; we’d fight and grip and breakand reassemble andannihilate each other. i sometimeshate her. sometimes, love her. she texts me when she’s lonely.Continue reading “life is for losers”

a strip club waitress brings me lemon balm from her garden

my pink body in the brokenyolk of pale blue morning, weaving threadbareand wobbling odd. these feet fall from a terrified height, inches from river valley slap to summit. whatkind of life is this, to suck greedily at the edge of atmosphere? my friend she has paper bag lungs, i stood with herunder awning in the soothing roar of aContinue reading “a strip club waitress brings me lemon balm from her garden”

too timid to wave, it is for practice that i live on island

morning quietly sheds night’s skein, thick woolen clouds silver in their support, helping to keep humming human dreams close to our collective skittering heart. yesterday i walked to the library, my route taking me past this island town’s solitary residential retirement home. an elderly man framed in top floor window, i could not see him well, only able to discern puff of cloud-whiteContinue reading “too timid to wave, it is for practice that i live on island”

a ritual of empty cups

consuming; podcast music book movie.these days consume me. solitaryin a blinking home, what is itthat i create? in absence—apophatic?— of supplication, i prostrate my mind at the altar of milk-steaming wand, its foaming shriek a call to prayer. my beads hang impotently about my neck, finding rest upon my breast. they are notpregnant with a lineage of ripe words, blossom ofContinue reading “a ritual of empty cups”

i run out of milk; hopeful, i go to the store

and during a short-lived friendshipwith a woman, we spoke at length about impermanence. she, who since her teens has not been more than a month or two withoutromantic companionship, quoting Rilke, in reverieof solitude. i wonder if we felt the frailty of our own shared blossom, in our fervent inspectionof impermanence? knowing withoutthe shout of active knowledge, that we were meantContinue reading “i run out of milk; hopeful, i go to the store”

sorrow sounds romantic but really it’s just joy

i need 8 bags for the energy bar i just made, i reach in to their sleeve and pull out exactly 8 bags. this makes me feel magicand destined. is this the mania that i amsaid to have?the ocean swell that starts in my chest and rises in lunar ripening up into my throat? it breaks on the gravelof silent vocal chords,iContinue reading “sorrow sounds romantic but really it’s just joy”

i leave the door open so the nervous cat can eat without choking on its panic

with ice cream softening in a bowlon the counter, taking my attention with it in its quiet transition of form,i wind rush with the thoughts in my head. my head and its contents of thoughts; my form and its expansion from icecream and a rain brushed day, encouraging me towards a minimally motioned recline. earlier,Continue reading “i leave the door open so the nervous cat can eat without choking on its panic”

macaroni, cheese, ice cream, and drive home

evening oozes over this dinner plate town, we all bunch up next to each other, confinedby the small stature of our limited city. peas can’t help but touchthe mashed potatoes, no wonder why some seem to always weara face of distaste. in the copper and ore of early-Fall evening-sun, that which is threadbare is briefly gilded. we all wear the glowof warmthContinue reading “macaroni, cheese, ice cream, and drive home”

in forgetting its form, ego compares itself to lake and feels inadequate

feeling foolish and meager, i write upon this page. perhaps this will inflate my flagging flesh? maybe my mind will still from its breeze of ineptitude? and what is it to feelflung and wrecked by relentless mutteringdoubt? is it ego that rides riffling winds, its false feathering turned to stone, at the sighting of eagle and hawk? i see photosof alpine lakesContinue reading “in forgetting its form, ego compares itself to lake and feels inadequate”

no one sits next to you on the bus because you look too lonely

diffuse glow of morning light frosts the living room windows. our daily triumph, to again perceive a star aflame in a sky we do not understand. this risinglight partitions itself to fit between slats in a blindingof large window’d door. we revel in this quietsense of control; choosing when we blind and when we allowimprint of light.Continue reading “no one sits next to you on the bus because you look too lonely”

first, cold feet. then, slippers. next, socks. finally, heaven.

aged and awash, in a sighing of thin blue poolingshe sits.in her rocker of melancholic reverie. perhapsthese two words are incongruous; to bein a silver shimmering sheen ofreverie and, melancholia. and perhaps it is incongruous that asshe stares outward while only lookinginward, the soft lapping of sorrow playing at the shores of her timeless feet,an ecstatic cat sitsContinue reading “first, cold feet. then, slippers. next, socks. finally, heaven.”

cat is too noisy at night so no longer sleeps inside

i stumble throughthe writing of Dōgen Zenji, 13th centuryzen buddhist. a filter, human mutterings pass through from those who pre-date him. the weightof his words encouraging me to focus my attentions on one thing, to limit my skewering, to gather myself against the dismantling of our prismatic distractions. i look at the cat that sits behind the wide glass of a yawning door.Continue reading “cat is too noisy at night so no longer sleeps inside”

wait another day or two and then go

a month’s end means moving day. art stripped from walls, cupboards emptied. music flutters about the emptying rooms, just as it wiggled into the spaces you once filled up.  and this space you entered, you did it with a partner. and this space you leave, you do it alone.  you open your small, cheap, cardboard filing case, to fill withContinue reading “wait another day or two and then go”

diesel truck idles while delivering home heating fuel

i stood maybe on silent shore of a mirroring lake deep in Montana, up by the Canadian border. or maybeon a rock shattered shoreline in Maine, perhaps Alaska, ocean salt whipped into joyful frenzy,later drying into a fine chalk on my ruddy skin. like softeningbones. it could be i waswalking to the El train in Chicago, pausingon an overpass, feeling the arterialContinue reading “diesel truck idles while delivering home heating fuel”

an entrance to an exit

i moved into this small cabin, percheda heart beat and breakfrom ocean’s edge, during the toddlingnew legs of southeast Alaskan Spring. snow still thick in its muscled mountain blankets, the alder and mountain ash that frame cabin’s deck, still lithe in their denuding. leaves stillbut a root’d suggestion. as sun spun higher in our jeweled sky, i studied at the ocean, inContinue reading “an entrance to an exit”

sun stunned peak in a time of failure

and Fall isin the air; the leaves shiftin coastal breeze. schooling salmon andangle of light. bald eagle that wasmottledwith its plumage of infancy, back when i first moved into this island cabin in May, it now wearsits near-full bald headand tail, its black body, as it grows into its maturity. the sunsetshave been spectacularand i wear their glowin my humming heart. yesterday rain dimpledthe wind shattered bay as a full rainbow stretchedfromContinue reading “sun stunned peak in a time of failure”

the last minus tide of Summer’s island

yesterday’s water was winded and capped, cloud filtered light intermittently refractedthrough its chattering chop.today this same water wears a fine reptilian ripple, uttering not even a mutter as it stretches itself towards taut. the tide recedes in the morning’s sleepy sun.  fish flop in the bay, schoolingup at the mouth of a small creek.they ready themselves for the short trip towards their longContinue reading “the last minus tide of Summer’s island”

a friend has beautiful feet

my understanding of why we wear different shirts is starting to wane. why do i have all these shirts that look different? am i supposed to continuewearing different shirts throughout the course of my lingering life? and how to pick how often to wear the blue plaid button up, with short sleeves and the contrasting red? it’s really more of aContinue reading “a friend has beautiful feet”

it is impossible to meditate on a wind howled porch

this morning you try to meditate on your porch. who can meditatewhen they have a porch! and who can meditate, sitting in the quiet still of the mind, when your mind is a forest and an ocean?the porch you try to sit upon is in a reflective bay. today’s bay is blue beneath a sky unrepentant in its billowing blue. sure, thereContinue reading “it is impossible to meditate on a wind howled porch”

moon harvest on morning tide

on briefly shorn shoreline, a new moon givesits tide to abalone and urchin. you slip a dull knife between tenderness and rock, a gentle twist and it slips free. you place the spiral of shell into the palmof your hand, the shock of flesh only a fewcentimeters above the pearl of bone, and rock a honed knife into theContinue reading “moon harvest on morning tide”

i build stairs from earth and coat them in earth

slipping a short knife in the long way, betweenmuscled foot and iridescent shell, a raven hollersat me. working the knifeagainst the rough silk of shell’s belly, abalone leapingfree, my heart wondersif my body and its actions are beingscolded. i feel the bruiseof death, the abalone suctioning to my aginghands, in the finality of its lastContinue reading “i build stairs from earth and coat them in earth”

in admiration of all the minds not my own

a coastal breeze joins mountainash and alderleaves, chattering.cool air in the August sighof this rain forest’d cabin.my shoulders squeezemy neck as i perchon the shattered edge of blank pageshoreline. an eagle, not yet bald,watches the chuckling oceanwater from a tidal island vantage.i wonder if the fishit seeks appear any closerfrom water’s edge, orif its eponymousContinue reading “in admiration of all the minds not my own”

Oregon’s oldest tree

yesterday, a storm. today’s bay of my brief belonging is less tossed, though sea’s surface still breaks. i do not knowthe composure of this sea, if it is riotous in its pubescence or toddling on new legs or sighing towards inevitableslumber. water breaks white on rocks exposed by retreating tide. water breaks, a sound like blood, rafting through our canyon’d body. a human body,comprisedContinue reading “Oregon’s oldest tree”

a grifter’s picnic

depression and boredom mark my days like bruises. i am inveteratein my propensity to complain.a weak and malcontentedcreature.my proclivity for abuseis banal, mediocre. there is also strengthand goodness in my footfall. perhapspart of the nothingness i seek will grant me freedomto be. without compulsory analysis. maybethis jittery panic is what it feels liketo beat cocoon’s translucentedge. cracking. unfurlinginto something different. or; feed for waiting fish. 

when taking a day off is more work than work

in the evening. sky is notblue for the clouds, it is whitein ways of gray and sheet ghost. the bodies down below on the ground, many are hungry for sun’s buttered touch. their eyes blackfrom behind their fire, coal miner’d vitamin deficiencyand the costumes of their youth, radiant in their smudging. a sheet ghost ravenous and gray, its edgesContinue reading “when taking a day off is more work than work”

in the East i saw rhubarb already

last week the front page of your local newspaper showed orcas breakingthrough ocean’s mottled skin, just offthe shatter of shoreline. the large islandand your small town. the ocean breathingin on all sides and around 8500 residents of that small town, gaspingand rattling in the delighted sky, this postage stamp of land. old growth forest cathedrals snug up against theContinue reading “in the East i saw rhubarb already”

maybe tree

i don’t know my trees. perhapsthe tree that grows throughthe constructed hole in thissmall cabin’s small deck,perhaps it’s an invasiveeuropean mountain ash. it lookssimilar and has the white Springblooms, though i’ve not seen the clustered red fruit that birdsare said to love. this maybemountain ash which is maybeinvasive, is not invading the front of my cabin. ItContinue reading “maybe tree”

52 Hurts; cycle 3

you once had a sister who livedwith you every day for your first 16 years. you shared a home of brightness and silence, where you were taught the odd swirl of self-loathing andarrogance. you thought maybe you wereclose, though probably you were not. you escapedthe chronic angers of the home through the smeared smileof intoxicants. she chose theContinue reading “52 Hurts; cycle 3”

52 Hurts; cycle 2

you late night arrived to your high school friend’s house, in the eveningof your 16th year. you were floatingfrom the vodka andthe impossibility of first kiss. perhaps his father was just on the backend of a long evening, the drink turninghis blood from that of singingto a brooding dissonance. ormaybe he could feel the youth returnedto the house, theContinue reading “52 Hurts; cycle 2”

52 Hurts; cycle 1

a woman you once loved, she took the painof a chaotic upbringing and tried to tame it through tight control. Her days scheduledwith meditation and yoga, with krafts and projects and frequent human contact. she laughed freely and loved widely,a nurturing woman, kind and flowering.though when you watched her, she unaware of your eyes, you saw the twitch and trembleContinue reading “52 Hurts; cycle 1”

stems are coated with fine thorns. bark grows papery as it ages.

it was likely sometime surrounding the Winter holidays, though you are presently unsure. a time of year for gifts; ribbon of smile,shudder of tear. your sadness was ripe, resplendent Winter fruit. It blossomed, aggregated fleshy drupelets.not a wine berry though certainly closekin to the blush of drink. you spoke to him, a friend, through blue sigh of cell phone.he thoughtContinue reading “stems are coated with fine thorns. bark grows papery as it ages.”

sunday night your nails begin to grow back

tonight is sunday,you pour a second cup of tea.friday you clipped your fingernailsin an empty cabin at ocean’s chatteringedge. typically you bite them.tonight sunday night is two cups of tea andfriday was solitude in a cabin near ocean’s edge. clipping your nails.  you smoked weed at every chance by 15. by 19, you were drunk every day. now you areContinue reading “sunday night your nails begin to grow back”

the difficulty of sharing in excitement

you don’t know how long the fires have been up northburning. long enough to take a clear eveningsky and make it wistful. the air hung in haze, bringing to mind the brutality of our ingenious species.even if you are a conduit for love we still find a way to hate you. a talent this celestial makes one lookContinue reading “the difficulty of sharing in excitement”

if a schmuck like me can do it

sometimes day starts in round middleof thin night. with no hip for handto home itself upon, your beginning stretches threadbare and trembling taut. your day was one of moving earth, gravel, root and berry. your feet seekpurchase, firmament offering the sly grin of protection,security, assurance. illusion, this is the dream you didnot have in thin night’s roundContinue reading “if a schmuck like me can do it”

detritus of breaking

You waterfall’d into love with her on an island surrounded by sea.You snow fell into love with her at the foot of ranging mountains, your heart purple like evening shadow in alpine valley. These valleys not choked with snow but ripe with it. And the basket of your ribscradling a heart growing luminousin love. She once tended a sailpuffed with love, it heldContinue reading “detritus of breaking”

in support of scaffolding

earlier you were today in a spacious shop, the doorsmade of wood more than 10 feet high.You were scrubbing scaffolding, aluminum. You were applying oil to parts that move, parts that stick. He waswelding and talking to you about photography,cameras, those who self-determine and spend solitary years on boats that sail. One man intentionally ice-locked his boat in Arctic Ocean andContinue reading “in support of scaffolding”

converted garage apartment on a moonrisen street

That second cup of coffee was a mistake. Or maybe it was the ice cream lunch, carton dripping in reflection of melting discipline. Sobriety, really just a game of definitions. The clouds clearing from mountain tops, sheddinglight on the bare severity of day’s mood. Ash gray roof on bone white house. The shutters are paleblue. 6pm on a Sunday, the perfect time for romanticizedContinue reading “converted garage apartment on a moonrisen street”