i hear the night rustling in trees and beyond hard beauty blue face of a lunar haze i feel my shape torn to a past gone and drawn to a fire of longer days a circle a square or the shape of my face a day or a night or a thousand tears simple touch…
I do not die today. I do not die from an earthquake, or from a volcanic eruption, or from an asteroid hitting the Earth. I do not die because the Earth’s magnetic poles reverse, or because a solar storm causes world-wide blackouts, or because of a rare galactic alignment of our sun and our galaxy.…
Sáwol, saiwala, sála, sêo, soul. These beings speak in many languages and I know all of them. Are their souls the same as mine and does anything endure the ravages of time and this problem – the problem of the soul – lies in the nature of the self and who am I, the one who lives…
Tuesday began like any other day, except for the dream and the wound. I woke up in my bed, though it took a minute to discern. Stripes of sun shone brightly through the blinds and my head ached. My bed. My blinds. My head. I was sure of all this. Damn sure. As sure as…
The first time I heard “Pink Cadillac” sung by Bruce Springsteen, I was in the back seat of a blue Chevy Camaro on the way to Phillips Crab House in Ocean City, Maryland. Brett Delacroix sped north on Coastal Highway with Marie riding shotgun and they acted like they were the only ones in the…
Why is she going so fast? breakfast all day car wash enter food barn reduced speed ahead see why millions trust us home and auto clothing and shoes ready to sell your car we’ll buy it pregnant and alone you have options revival passionate outreach labor finders patient crossing mental illness is not just a…
The outside world is noisy. I have waited years for this silence. I have been anxiously waiting for access to an isolation tank (float tank) but the only one I could find was across town through always horrendous traffic – either around the DC Beltway or through the city. Not ideal for a relaxing,…
Cast iron conjures fiery blaze of multi-colored crispy savory sizzle submission surpassing the rising sun. Bacon.
Posthumous silence, no clocks keeping pace Sepia stain masquerading your face Time standing still on twelve moons never seen, tugging my sleeve, so curious and clean Frozen in frames on your living room floor, these blue flannel daydreams I slept in and more- The future lay scattered with jackets and jeans, beer cans and…
What if you yanked your finger from the Hole? The One the Man you can’t remember now told you once, with his eyes, must remain filled at the cost of Your life. Would the Others notice the torrent spilling out onto Your scorched landscape? Can’t they see Your earth is thirsty? They – the Ones…
The Naked Notebook 