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…
Daily Fifty-Two: Sept. 7, 2022
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.
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…
Daily Fifty-Two: Sept. 6, 2022
Tree black silhouettes haunt the morning fog. Day arrives slowly and I feel too hurried to see – my own fog, my own morning. A plane leaves the small airport just outside of town ripping the air, up and to my right. I don’t play chess, but I know when I’m in zugzwang.
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…
Leaning In To What’s Always Been
In first grade I wrote a book. I think it was about a brown dog. In second grade I wrote another book. I don’t know what it was about. Both books were maybe 8, 12, or 20 pages in length with one or two sentences per page. They were illustrated by yours truly. The covers…
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,…
Final Days: A Few Steps Closer to Home
Songs and smells can sometimes yank you back and sometimes subtly glide and guide you through the thin fog of memory to other places and times… distant shores of past lives. For my father, every time he hears “Hey Nineteen” by Steely Dan, he mentions Fort Devens and his time in the Army. I suspect…
Writing and Love: Let the Children Play
I often feel a little off, guilty, and/or embarrassed after sharing something confessional and personal. That audience thing nags at me… I ask myself: am I ok, by which I mean comfortable, with other people knowing these things about me? Family, co-workers, friends? The answer is almost always no, I’m not comfortable with any of…