There was no will. Only footwork. In sunless hospital roomsI played card games with men twice my age. Say it wasn’tabout falling but the gated terrain’s arrival after the jump,then I landed not in heaven but in Redding where I tradedmy blue jeans & black boots for a dotted white gown. Here,the men & I…
Maybe it means somethingwhen Jeremiah of the Shopping Cartrolls his chariot across this monster parking lotto ask about my soul again. Maybe I should climb aboard this time—we’ll break Wonder Bread,sip Mountain Dew,toss twelve-packs to the children. Maybe I’ll be a part of some miracle—feel for once,memory resisting her adjectives.Hear dreams changing their minds.Every wheel…
While you get high with your therapist, I’m smoking a spliff in a cemetery, readingabout the Birds of Tennessee, wishing we were playing house in New York.The art is beautifuleverywhere, but all descriptions of art are the same.Theory elides the gap between aesthetics and ethics.The greathorned owl lives in the suburbs. I’m dismayedto learn the barred…
How would I know, don’t you seeI haven’t washed my hands? Howcould I even talk about anything?I don’t remember anything fromSyria or my childhood or anything.Why would you ask such a stupidquestion? Your father should havebeen a monk. They come to thiscountry with money. Money, moneymoney. Why do you think it has takenso long? Oh,…
What birdwas thatthat justflew throughmy mind?
Open carry, open for business,open and shut case. Openlike a store. Open like a vault.Any opening in my defenses is yourfault so I close it all up as tight asI can. Then I fold closed bothmy hands again. This gesturemakes a fist. It makes me listlessand makes me brisk and makesme wish for the bicycle…
Transcendence The first thing is silence: the muffling power of snow, that Fairbankssnow hanging on every limb and twig. No noise from nearby roads, nosounds of planes taking off at the airport. Just my skis gliding along,my poles crunching the snow. My breath, and if I stopped to listen, thesound of my heart beating. is…
On the special ed school tour, he askswhat is that tiny room with the tiny window,and the assistant admissions directortells us it is the seclusion room.We look at the closet-sizefeatureless space with the metal-reinforced door and large thicksteel bar on the outside, and our facesare not as shatter-proofas the glass in that window.With all the…
How to describe the colorof a pond gone fuguein autumn windsurface tinctured blue,sky-stained and deeper watertea-stained from steeping in peatthat netted entanglementthat took a thousand yearsto form. How far the landcan go in tellinga story, waterdark as obsidian nighttoward which I progressevery day feelingendless longing to hold on.
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