Around the holidays I do tend to remember to be thankful. I don’t pray much, and anymore, and I’m not sure how I feel about there being a particular God; in fact, I am slowly becoming an Atheist after many years of wishful Agnosticism. I believe in spirit. I believe in energy. I believe in […]
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Essay on flight, death, like a parade marching.
(i) The girls on their bicycles stop at the cemetery to mourn the passing of history. How all those folk songs leave her howling in between because of all those notes from Verse to Chorus. Because Chorus is that reminder: something or other about life. Verse becomes the Vernacular, as in she can’t […]
Account of the Days like a Great River Flooding (as were those days a year ago)
On Sunday all these ordinary things happen. There is an ancient symbol drawn on a napkin. The cook in the kitchen gives you a full account of its historic detail. You have a thousand hieroglyphics that you’ve made purposely difficult so that they are too hard for the rest of the world to figure out. […]
the candles like
breadcrumbs lighting the way, carving strange paths all flickering. come this way, no turn behind your shoulder blade, go far beyond the trees upon the hill, no, search lower, still, towards the sea level, wait, westward until sundown, but stop, before you leave you must sew on some new buttons, you must gather your whiskey, […]
the ringing of tubular bells like an alarm clock: wake up wake up darling.
I am constantly forgetting to interact in a world larger than my own lately! i feel foreign in my own land. i don’t watch or read the news much anymore, and i question this. i question everything i read, learn, love. questions questions questions! here is an army of question marks adorned all down the […]
i keep forgetting to unbury myself.
if you were to dig a hole and keep digging, here in Pennsylvania, if you check the latitude lines, you would dig straight to china. i tried this once, i made an x right there in the yard and started digging. i never seem to get far. i’ve turned off my senses and stopped looking […]
the cure
of the common cold, the cure of worldly sin, the cure of sadness and danger and fret. the cure of cancer like an impasse on a bridge. the cure of poetics is unsure but it is there. it is there in every second it is there. what i am trying to suggest about sense in […]
the orthodox cross from her neck glimmered
like a story. like she knew her roots, her distance in growing. it was a middle eastern restaurant. but she was greek, turkish perhaps. this was her restaurant. she is here in pittsburgh. we are here in pittsburgh always and we don’t know why. i was in her restaurant. it was quiet. it was so […]
Because this happens every day…
not poetic intention, but poetic justification of the everyday. validation of the norm, and validation of the not so norm. mourn. but what about the morning? this is what i am asking. this is what i am intending. this is meant to be an exercise in recording. the every day. this blog will suit the […]
on touch
i was asked a strange question today by a customer. my first day back in the coffee shop. she was a familiar customer, a regular. still, a perfect stranger. her (much older) french husband accompanies her always, and they are usually happy, often kissing at the register and contemplating cookies. i do not know what […]