For a year, I lived in Memphis, Tennessee. I moved there to be alone. I moved there to recover from a failed engagement. I moved there for the music and the culture and to feel something akin to roots. I moved there for a bit of self-discovery, re-calibration, and a fresh start. I had landed…
Category: Life
More of the Same
What’s the point? More specifically (but not terribly specific), what’s the point of this? All of it. Last night, my friend and I were talking about whether poetry could/should evoke emotion, like actually make the reader feel an emotion… or does it just approximate those feelings in the reader? I’m sure it happens, but I…
With the Camera On…
Last night I reconnected with an ex. We were shy at first. We were aware that we had been re-entering each other’s orbits, but had been avoiding getting in touch. Our circles had been intersecting though mutual friends and former co-workers. We agreed we should talk or have dinner or something like that. I don’t…
Regrets: We Have but One Life
A poetry account I follow on Twitter posts/hosts a “poetry thread” almost every day. The poet picks a broad topic and shares a poem that relates to or exemplifies the topic/sentiment. Other people share poems that also relate. I usually read the original post and poem and maybe one other one, but seldom dive into…
At Capitalism’s Bar and Grill
After my friends left and my pizza arrived, I had a heated discussion over economics with the couple sitting next to me. I’ve talked to this couple before (once) and I’ve seen them often. Like me, they’re Friday night regulars at the bar. The conversation began innocently enough – they wanted to know what I…
To One Day Have a Shared Language
I subscribe to a daily poem email list. I don’t read them every day. Instead, every week or two, I’ll read a bunch of them in one sitting. I did that this morning. In the bio for one of the poets, he wrote about how he loves when he gets lost in his writing. He’ll…
Stubborn Love
She’ll lie and steal and cheat
And beg you from her knees
Make you think she means it this time
She’ll tear a hole in you, the one you can’t repair
But I still love her, I don’t really care.
The Open Door of a New Year
If there’s a theme I’m seeing and feeling this New Year’s it’s to walk into whatever comes next with confidence and wonder. From a poem I saw published today, “isn’t this lilting world shaped as an open door?” and from a poem by Lucille Clifton: “i am running into a new year / and the…
Against Routine
I have routines – lots of them. I say that I keep them or use them as a way to free up mental space for other things. Given my mental output, I’m not sure it’s working. I eat the same thing for breakfast almost every day: two waffles and two cups of coffee. On the…
Speculation and Dithering: An Addendum
As soon as I hit publish on my recent post about dithering, I second-guessed how such a post would be interpreted and/or received. This happens a lot when I have concerns about who might read it or what they might think. It happens when I talk about any subject over which I hold multiple and…
Speculative Questions and Dithering Answers
The other day I wrote a long and rambling mess of a post about indifference as a form of accepting uncertainty (Adjusting the Throttle of Indifference). Or at least that’s what I was trying to write about. I was also trying to touch on what it’s like to try to live without expectations and how…
Grouchin’ and Grinchin’
This morning I woke up feeling weathered and old. I didn’t even look in the mirror, but I had this vision of myself with a sagging face and storm cloud skin. I felt washed up and hunched over. I felt like someone prematurely aged by booze and cigarettes and a graying heart. I don’t smoke…