May 18
A crisp evening the pasta perfectly al dente light clinging to the sky like legs of wine finally quiet caesura– and no one claps through the pause– everything in harmony except that door, ajar
All posts tagged: creative
April 9
Sun today like honey like salve and that breeze coming off the lake– crisp bridges linear and visible in fullest color not simply more light this clarity– winter has its own perspective– a twist of mirrors and new glass shifts into focus a few repurposed shards illusions of infinity and then there is this sky
January 17
Birds scatter, lacking surface tension, cohesion. They barricaded the sidewalk, but only on one side, turning back it said DANGER. Even a shrug would be too decisive. Nothing sticks, an oilcloth sky, raindrops and seagull droppings. Could have been much worse, but wasn’t
January 16
we ran through a forest at night an unfamiliar road an unfamiliar night anything can be foreign depending on context . back-lit windows as heavy-lidded eyes monstrously large behind the trees . a car passing quickly a thought that won’t settle that’s not a bird it’s a bat
January 15
Sometimes forget and write September, or some long-past year, the moment’s default, multiverse– Somewhere it is September, somewhere it’s still summer, yesterday bluebird at the beach and honeysuckle– a wash of memory, clean sweep of tide, a commuting. The effect is gentle, soft as this breeze, yesterday’s breeze, still a breeze somewhere, or what will become another, conservation, so cleanly seen, forget and write conversation, again clarity in lapse of memory, saying what I didn’t […]
January 8
Frowned upon to write about dreams but I want to say how the wild things arrived, hares, wildcats, hawks– not dangerously– estatically. The subconcious colors the world, if neccessary, decadently– It was a tapestry how they came down from the trees, in medias res, the way dreams go, my childhood home, summertime with wolves, no fear, just floating from the same lack of gravity– not obeying logic, but following something, some unnatural orders, and happily
January 7
Too icy to leave, weekend in town, a radio on somewhere, drowsy, staticky, non-descript winter, truly in the thick of it. Each year it still comes as a surprise. Transitory states: is this wet snow, or cold rain? And why make distinctions? Strange dreams this morning, late to the Christmas party, searching for a seat. Today is the day they’ll take the tree, make a note of it, the birds in the hedge by the […]
December 27
Day and night, vise-like, bookends to whatever this is. A return? Or stalled momentum. Pieces of salt, like stars, stud the black ice. This year drawn out to its breaking point– a twist of the champagne cork– anticipation is such a terrible ache. And this cold cuts to the bone. Waiting for a word, a sign, breath suspended in the frigid air, and fingers gone numb, only hurting when they touch something warm– a loss […]
November 11
More North than home, this morning-still forest– dull today, awaiting more snow, more sky, more anything– a drowsy forest, half-sleeping under packed-down ice, still dirt where the sun breaks through, on some days, but not this one, no more day now than hours ago, barely more than night, the sun somewhere in its low arc, somewhere under these insulating clouds, very little moves, the lake comes as a surprise, so silent at its banks, even […]
September 20
traffic sounding almost like the tide this night spent early a couple laughs so loudly in the lobby there is nothing silence can’t magnify particularly stillness a pipe empties from the loft above even ears plugged blood courses through its vessels
OPTIONAL POETRY 