August 12, 2024 At 7am, it’s cool and gray outside – the temperatures are in the low fifties (I feel like there’s an age joke in there somewhere). Today is my birthday. Today I turn 50. The plan for the day is a late breakfast with my dad, hang around a bit, and then Uber…
Category: Dear Diary
This Golden Sun Shines for Me
I’ve been living in San Francisco for nine months – ten if you count the three weeks I lived in a hotel. Aside from a deep appreciation for the beauty and character of this city, I don’t have much to show for my ten months here: no girlfriend, no job, no newly published poems, stories,…
How It Used to Be
The poem about desire (titled “Desire”) begins, “I remember how it used to be.” I rejected the author’s invitation. I stopped there at the first line. I opened my notebook and wrote, “Do you remember how it used to be?” My own small ode to how we lose desire – the couple that starts “hot…
A Little Catch Up
There’s a ketchup packet on the bottom shelf of my fridge – the solid, plastic shelf above the crisper drawers where I would store fruits and vegetables if I had fruits and vegetables. There was a time in US bureaucratic history and policy when the USDA was considering classifying ketchup and pickle relish as vegetables…
Looking for the Familiar
It’s not yet 8am. The foghorn from the bridge sounds every 18 seconds. This has been going on since sometime yesterday. The morning sun has broken through. It lights my apartment. It warms the left side of my face and neck as I sit on the sofa editing poems I’ve written but am not happy…
Two Wolves in the Morning
The two wolves snarling and nipping at each other this morning are: spontaneity and being methodical. I’m reading a book about breathing. It’s called Breath by James Nestor. A friend recommended it while we were hiking and I was getting my ass kicked on the climb. I had said something about how when I run,…
Wellness Check
It’s 4am. Tuesday. I woke up about half an hour ago and couldn’t fall back asleep. The apartment is chilly. The outside temperature is in the mid-fifties. I’ve had the windows open for several weeks – maybe months. Ten minutes later, I’ve already had my waffles. I’ve moved from my square, dark wood bistro table…
Abandoned Posts or a Case of the Mondays
I keep at least two journals. One is this blog space. The other is a notebook that I carry with me when I intentionally set out for a park or a bench by the water with a book or two of poetry. This space, the blog, is mostly about my day to day activities and…
Mish Mosh (Start with Love, End with Hate)
Homer: No TV and no beer make Homer go something something.
Marge: Go crazy?
Homer: Don’t mind if I do.
It’s only been a few days of semi-isolation. I haven’t had any beer or watched any TV…
Simplify, Simplify, Revise, Delete, Revise, Arrive
It’s morning. The sun is bright. Steam rises from my cup of coffee and the foghorn from the bridge keeps time in 18-second intervals. In between my coughs, I’m reading and writing and looking at my phone. Looking for a line of poetry that might inspire me, I go to look for recent screenshots of…
House Arrest
At midnight I awoke from a fever dream. A woman, an ex I think but I’m not sure which one, accidentally killed my dog. I had been away. She was dog sitting. My friend Steve was there too. When I got home, they didn’t want to tell me. I grew impatient and cruel in my…
It Feels Good
As so often happens after I write a long post in which I try to figure out how to reconcile where I am with where I used to be (like the one I posted today “Cutting through the Noise…“), I re-think and re-visit and try to revise. In my head, I come up with the…