This will not be the year I thought last year shouldn’t have been he said he could hear the heart-ruminations beating against her temple from the inside out. I will walk more, march more, sell more, buy less, build more, meme less, write more. I will tear down, build up, use up, reduce, reuse, resist, […]Read More Dumpster Fire: A Parable
I. They fought like hell over that border, I’m told. The Tigers and the Free Staters Hating each other to death, shoot on sight. These days, you can find the rumpled shirts and smoke stained fingers of their aging children nubbing down the old wooden pencils, playing KENO at the Twin Cities Tavern. You cross […]Read More Borders
May you travel light Especially when it comes to worries. May you breathe an unfamiliar air in Like the gift of a long lost friend May you meander just enough to know The place you’ll long to discover next time May beasts and children and saints meet You in the coming, the going, and return. […]Read More A blessing for an adventure
“Tell me about the way We used to live.” A cross between philosopher And child, this one is. “Moral Geography it is, then,” He’d grumble back, “The pleasure of the sound of ice in the whiskey glass Before my father had a bad thing to say. The question of whose fault it is when the […]Read More The Philosopher’s Bed Time Story
I hear him wailing. My hound dog and I have taken to walking through the neighborhood as of late. He has discovered that he is more of a city dog than anything else. He no longer has the patience or the guts for the woods. His ears will pick up the noise of a hawk […]Read More Gentrification #2
I have five stories about myself If I tell them all to you you will understand everything there is to know about me. I will tell them all in rapid succession while I have you here Because if you leave before you know, you will forget, and then who will I be?Read More Another Confession for William Carlos Williams
Travis She was our neighbor. She stole our pumpkins. Overfed our dogs. On the day I took her To the hospital She called me by someone else’s name She was the nicest lady ever. — Julie I’ve always really loved this pic. I see my grandfather at a clay pigeon shoot I see that we […]Read More Third Month. Two Friends. One Poem.