Stories tagged 11

Kamikaze Birdsongs

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Twisting and twirling, nearing velocity terminal, the wishbones in their chests rise and fall with the cadence of different bird songs calling. As they whistle down each is distinctively screaming.

Autumn, 2001

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Seed rests in fallen fruit to spread what might be possible beneath our uncertain steps.

The End of America

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The second time she visited New York, New York, it was just in passing to get to and back from Long Island for the American Association of Women in Engineering conference. She planned to linger on a couple of days after to see more of the city. When th

Three Degrees of Separation from the Same Thing We Were Still Supposed to be Thinking About

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It was hard to believe that, even very recently, there had been first days of school where nothing happened.

An Excerpt from "Lucidity"

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It had been early December. We were dressed in gym shorts and tanks, only one towel to share between the two of us. We had managed to sneak into the public swimming pool area without being noticed by security, Schmidt always convincing me to accept sponta

Downbound A

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Fall came early that year. The edge in the air wasn't just the cold, raw wind cutting down the street — the unity and collective embrace briefly shared after September 11th had faded. The weight from…

7 or 8 Things I Know About Him - A Stolen Biography

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Wonderful When his mother was a little girl, her father would braid her hair until it was exactly right. When she asked him how it looked, he always said,…

Spring Miscellany

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Because we are exceptional,/ our 3000 dead in New York/ exceeds in impact that of 75,000/ burned at Nagasaki,

Things We Lost On Tuesday

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REVELATIONS Bobby Coleman hated every part of his job — not just the usual things like meaningless deadlines, unrealistic work loads, and failed expectations; Coleman was done with all of it. Too many years at his nine to five had him convinced he was…

Barcode, Sloe Gin Fizz is Pink

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Sloe Gin Fizz is pink Bombay Gin comes in blue I’m sitting here at Emerald’s And all I can think of is – you.

9/11 & Autumn, 2001

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#1 written in 2013, #2 in 2001

The Work of Constant Rising

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The poet said, ‘I feel the fell of dark, not day.” but day it always is. Bright! Bright! the city claims its blue salutes; its stopping in mid-sentence at a name where fingers roam a stone.

The Work of Constant Rising

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When did the air become warning?That clairvoyant delft and Delphic sky.What strange and ardent premonitionheld sway? Where were we goingbefore this hard work of constant falling?We were catching cabs and making breakfast,ironing, cursing late trains; hoping the deal…