I love you for shattering.Someone has to. -Dean Young Six new books of poetry arrived yesterday. This morning, with a steady rain tickling the leaves outside, I sat by an open window and started in on Bender: New & Selected Poems by Dean Young. A few weeks ago Young passed away. I had never read…
Category: Dear Diary
Part Three?
I didn’t sleep well. This is nothing new. I woke up at 2-ish and again at 4. I had to force myself back to sleep at 4. I then had a dream about an ex. We had reconnected and were trying again, but had already fallen into the same pattern / trap that was problematic…
Morning Jetsam (Part Two)
The coffee maker is a heavy breather. It huffs, it percolates. Its black plastic lid hat bubbles and taps before it lets out a final sigh. The dog rests his heavy head on the top of my foot. He’s bored – waiting to be fed. His breath is warm. He sighs too. I messed up…
Morning Jetsam
“Two waffles and a cup of coffee. that’s what I need to face the day. If I can arm myself with a decent poem or something clever or moving, all the better….” That’s what the narrator in my head was saying as I buttered my waffles and pulled the syrup from the cabinet. I hear…
Empty Doorways in the Afternoon
Well, let’s argue this out, Mr Blank. You, who represent Society, have the right to pay me four hundred francs a month. That’s my market value, for I am an inefficient member of Society, slow in the uptake, uncertain, slightly damaged in the fray, there’s no denying it. So you have the right to pay…
Half of a Saturday
“It is joy to be hidden, and disaster not to be found.” I read that on someone’s twitter feed – I think their therapist said it to them. I’m starting this post a little after 11 on a Saturday night. Themes and subjects escape me. I have draft posts on student debt relief, what it’s…
Something to Think About
With the lights out, the cell phone turned upside-down on the night stand, and my eyes not yet closed, I felt this strange yearning for guidance… it was somewhere between wanting to pray (something I don’t do) and a quiet call into the void. I picked up the phone and typed: Dear god…. In writing…
There’s a Twitter in the Atmosphere
The students are back. Everything is more crowded. I bought a new piece of original art, and I’m temporarily filled with moments of Sunday determination – the elation and motivation of which soon will pass. None of those things are related, it’s just part of the weather report, an indication of my current atmospheres…. oh,…
Empty Pillows
It’s 11:00 pm on a Tuesday night in August. The temperatures feel like early fall and the windows are open. From the kitchen I can hear the hum of the refrigerator, but mostly I hear the outside chorus of crickets and katydids and the occasional car passing by. Earlier tonight I sat on the deck…
Beach Day in the Afterlife
I spent this past weekend at the beach. I love being near the ocean. I like walking near water. I think differently when I’m near the water. It was a nice, but all too short, getaway. I snapped a decent picture on Sunday morning before the beach was crowded – when the only people on…
Unsettled and Under the Weather
Today’s post (Saturday morning) is brought to you by the letters u, g, g, g, h, h, and the number 45 – as in for a solid 45 minutes, I was paralyzed with indecision and feeling a whole lot of uggghh. For starters, I’m feeling a little sick. It’s that scratchy throat, stuffy nose, something…