Tag: literature

I want you to see (me) Not past, nor through (me) Nor should you pretend (I look as you do) Nor will yourself into believing (I should) No, I want you to see (what’s here) I want your eyes to trace (the structure and dance of my lines the texture and humility their design) Heed […]

  The air tastes of                      spoiled milk                         a day ago something that              was safe           to drink            Its molecules lock onto my skin        follow me back to my hotel    climb into bed with me They resist             hot showers and rainstorms    I want     to crawl away I want      to live                 […]

In that wood they built their house. You can’t see the ocean but you can smell the tide. He remembers birch sap under his nails, and April’s light. Foundation, beams, paint. Maybe he wanted to be a painter once. Maybe he danced. Surely he stood in front of the mirror practicing his songs. This is […]

Do everything you would do. Gone crazy in a fortune cookie. Every platitude held a poem. I wrote what cannot be read. Oh you missed it, time. Whole nights. Still need yesterday and forgot where it aches. May keep it real. You may be raining all day. Most of the sights were silent…I sang for your […]

You are the only one of your kind who does not return home to nest, opting, instead, to venture wherever you feel like, beaching new pockets of earth. Maybe your instincts have misfired, a product of mutated genes gone wrong, your idea of home morphed, lost in the translation of generations. Maybe you are too […]

Tomorrow, I’ll plant your post-       sun, bury you in concrete cracks and unlit skies, praying— you’ll bloom still. If you grow, you’ll need       water, but I’ve only known streams of white and yellow, of blur— traffic. Somehow, everyone has a you, a parked       somewhere, a firefly […]

My father taught me to read a map, unfolding its mysterious symbology. Pointing out its legend, starburst beacons became illuminated lighthouses, while colorless roads, unimproved like myself, awaited discovery. Cartographic contours provided relief to the eye, an aesthetic guide for mapping out a life. He noted that north was a spatial orientation that put one […]

I think about guilt, at twenty-three, watching you bang on our dealer’s windows at 4 AM because the baggie ran out. And how, who I’ve become—a Writing Instructor, a Cedar Lake kayaker, an appreciator of pre-war motorcycles—is crazy different. How the poignancy of Maggie Anderson pops like graffiti on fresh brick; Bazooka Joe in my […]