Category: Blogs
Washed Slate
Classes wouldn’t be back in session until early January, so Alice had a little time to go up north for a visit. She hadn’t seen them since summertime. That’d been a nice, long weekend lounging with her feet up and nothing of much importance in her head. It was a Read more
Close to Home
Today is a good day to die. The neighbor’s mother is dying next door, fifty feet from us. She has been dying for some days. The son arrived yesterday, though, from Ohio, all red-eyed, sleep deprived, and unshaven, and I happened to be collecting the mail. “Hi, how are you?” I Read more
Hearts are breaking everywhere
Even though I cannot see your face Nor place my fingers upon your skin; I am here; craving your words, your Warmth, the small smile in the dark, So damn sweet As if still children; we would play on the Playground, eat unwashed apples, and Ride our bikes, dangerously… Need Read more
The Shipwreck of the Ispolen
For one hundred and twenty-five years, I’ve been nothing more than a watery whisper, dissipating in shifting waves, crumbling to shadowy fragments, perpetually washed upon the sandy shore. My fingers are ghosts stretching longingly and painfully back to Norway, where love was once known. Cruelly, my spirit is trapped here: entrapped Read more
To what you let go
Do your hands still look the same as they did? Do you still wear those shirts? Are your shoes still under your desk? Do you still worry about your hair turning grey? Does your voice still sound like song? Do you still lie awake at night Thinking about it over Read more
Game of Telephone
The telephone used to ring a lot You see it in old movies Heroes fumbling for their change Being pelted with rain Pursued, hiding, and afraid There’s only one way out In the middle of seduction In the parlor, lights down low The faithful always called The criminal element laughed Read more
Trapped Tears
It’s back, that distantly familiar swell under my ribs, a bitter sensation, like crying which is desperate to escape. Is it my trapped tears, all alone inside my chest? Or the hollow itself that they inhabit, which hurts? The aching makes me inhale, throbbing intensifies. Perhaps because my sorrow is Read more