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I normally don't photograph well, but today – well, today's different.
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Going to Atlanta 6AM Despite all the issues presented by Delta this morning (the rescheduling of my 7am flight at 1am to a flight at 10, giving me a two minute layover time in Detroit, and my eventual own rescheduling of my flight to 6am, and waiting…
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I knew there was something wrong with the sunset when I woke up.
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Many colored eyes move slow
between the mirror and my heart,
begging questions.
I offer no explanation.
None suffice to breed either my content or theirs.
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... and August's drought/
will yellow lawns, singe the shrubs,/
and amplify cicada song.
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123263
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Meeting the past an inevitable outcome (this inside a future fortune cookie). Shame pierces her like a sudden migraine.
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Grace looks at her cell phone. It had been about a week since her Aunt Margaret fell, slipping gracefully down the stairs and pulling her shoulder out as she grabbed the banister, her hand caught in the holiday streamers spiraling down the railing. Every
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"Damn! All I've got is a hundred dollar bill."
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I find that I am keeping silent more often. I don't like repeating myself.
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We believe in our love storyin spite of the ferocious efforts ofserial bankerseverywhere to discourage us from looking our damned nearprettiest if we really feel like it. I meangranted they do do their ugly troll dogimpressions of…
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It was an unseasonably warm day in early spring when I first saw the man in the treehouse. The boys had just climbed onto the school bus, the older with shoulders hunched, weighted down with the gross unfairness of his early adolescent life, the younger still scribbling…
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Sam tapped the stick against the small mountain of trash bags, a dull thud predictably followed by a dozen rats scurrying out of the mass. He's started to make a personal game of it — seeing how many he can kill with one whack; if he swings hard enough, and in…
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Side morning lightthrough hydrangea crab, reachand shine off patio ice
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You looked innocent and
I
was the epitome of just that …
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My obituary wasn't in the morning paper, so I headed to Target.
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you are on a missing boat in the middle Of a fogged out notion of some sort. A no nonsense paddle could be made out Of something as intangible as an Incoming wave. This could also be a Floating thought up map, man. In…
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For Derek, Remembering Odd Jaunts in Overtoun I here remembered how we smoked and swam Under the cadenced pleasure of our under-days, Congealing cross-thoughts under oaken breeze, And watched the Turnered ocean of that swarm Last…
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That was all it took. Thirty seconds.Half of a minute.30: He was standing with me on the corner of the street, 29: waiting for the crosswalk to say it was okay for us to make our way to the other side. 28: The red "do not walk" signal changed to the white "join us over…
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“Eat up, little brother” Jack called out from his end of the table. “The food will make your blood dance. It will be eager to mix with Helen’s.”
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Like the Lady Miss Kier, I believe in the power of love. I believe.
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That’s where her reputation Wild Cat came from.
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When New Guinea's president was a student at UCLA he received an A- in organic chemistry after watching a Joan Rivers Informercial. Each year he tries to re-create the magic of that moment.
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The Phoenix Asks the Turtle-Dove if He Can Get a Drop of Water: After Shakespeare — In the style of Ted Hughes Let the bugling bird come up that burst a big loud lay, On the solitary tree of old Arabia (sound its thunder!):…
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I heard a story once that said we are all entitled to seven good years. No, wait, that is not exactly what it said. Rather, it was more plaintive and inquiring. The feeling that song gave was more one of asking the question: Wasn’t I supposed to get sev
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We all heard the audible skill you had, speaking smoothly of our lives, saying audibly what has driven us, who are huge with night, rising with its origin inside, and clear water running past, beyond, behind, and after us.
To honor, to fear utteranc
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One day, he decided instead to be-pet them,
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Do you think your mom would come out and take off her shirt, the way Brandi Chastain did the last time the U.S. women won the World’s Cup?
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Miriam smiled as I entered through the old, creaky metal front door of her home. She sat still, face marked of deep wrinkles, tense with the pain only another cancer patient would understand. In that soft, sweet, melodic voice, she greeted me. '"Hello Ms. Monica, I've been…
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