Select Page

At our backs

Oh sun, be at our backs now, make steam of our dread and our misgivings. Make agency of our sensitivity, strength of our diversity, light of our transformation, nourishment of our demise.
The jaws I need

The jaws I need

Like an empanada, perhaps, I can fold away what is in me, protect it from being washed away. A bit of fruit, a morsel of compote, a golden kernel of tolerance. In some ways, I would want to belong to this lot, or that — but it feels that being askew to all may just...
Strange cafe

Strange cafe

What occurred to consume our connection, what pitted us one against another? How do we feel the soaring architecture that children feel, and sustain what is supple there? Perhaps if we each made it our work to be kinder to people we don’t know in this strange cafe,...
Memory

Memory

The days keep on pushing one over the other, as seagulls do, waves delivering even as undertow erodes the beach beneath. I believe and the grist goes on, and the memory cleans itself from leaves, from barnacles, from the thing itself, eventually from the fossil-shape...
What else

What else

What else could love be but grappling — depraved or lucid – with our angels? In youth, mostly recognizable by the agitation in its wake, 
we sometimes mistake this disarray for the active ingredient.
 But perhaps with time, a refinement of strength passes across...