(I wondered what happened to this poem. I found it hiding out in my music file, plotting its escape with the help of Veruca Salt.) He stumbled out of thin climate-controlled air,a belated debut in the doorway of sophomore English, day 8of … Continue reading All the Boys Hated Him
Another close shave with annihilation.I crept back into the closet,closed it, returned to earth. The lies I spunto survive—I’m still laughingat the simple priest who absolved my sinsthrough the slats of his own safety cave.Creation grovels out of agony,never love. … Continue reading Pieta
Although it’s pretty much run its course, one of the hottest, almost ubiquitous buzzword trends in the publishing world is the subject of habits. And as with all trends, for every inspiring, original, life changing book that surfaces, several dozen … Continue reading Habituated. I Think.
a poem This morning,sickened by twin tsunamis of rage and shame, I refusedto unpack. My blood as cold as an ocean, holding my old personaat arm’s length like a diseased rag; the years did nothingto compromise the allure of its … Continue reading Please Don’t Call Back When the ‘Shrooms Wear Off
First Rule of Chronic Illness: Do Not Talk About Your Chronic Illness In that case, I’m going to write about it. I’ve test-driven a couple hundred-thousand beginnings for this piece, everything from quantum neo-existentialism to bikini-girl carwashes, and all the … Continue reading Things You Don’t Want to Hear. Best You Read About Them Instead.
This square of side-yard sodwe’ve unearthed and bludgeonedthese November nights in silence,the splattered source we’ve stompedby porch-light, whose borders we’ve bound with wooden beamsand curious stones stolen — you shrugged — from two or threenational parks will, in time,become a garden. Tonight, there is … Continue reading Burial
April 19, 2020 A little over a year ago, after insidious deterioration throughout a lengthy hospital stay, my best friend’s mother passed away. It’s one of life’s most brutal inevitabilities, and most inevitabilities are, by nature, utterly and irrevocably devastating. … Continue reading The One Thing I Do Best Is Choosing the Words That Couldn’t Be Worse
April 18, 2020 So, I’ve been away for a while, nothing glamourous. Just stepped outside to absorb some cool fresh air, soak up a little sunlight and moonlight and starlight, and haul my ass downtown for a psychiatric evaluation earning … Continue reading I’m Not Sick, but I’m Not Well. But I’m a Little Better
I meet with the young priest after Mass.He is black, shaves his head, lifts weights;his pinkies could splinter every weedywine-stained curb along NE Alberta. Outside, over peppermint tea and the fifty-degree windsbattering a JUST SAY NO banner, he fretsover modern cinema’s excess-cultureof nudity and futility and creative blasphemy.“Have you ever seen Last Year at Marienbad?” I shake my head. The wind absorbsthe receding slivers of tea-steam. I used to lovethis weather. The dab of lavender I’ve smeared into my scarfdoes nothing for my nerves. I am mash-lipped, jittering in rhythm to the flapping flag overhead. I am sickof myself. I … Continue reading star e. rose
January 22, 2020 “I never remember anythingExcept for those thingsThat I never forgetYou know there’s no in-between–Ani Difranco It’s starting.Five years ago, in the lonesome recovery limbo of my thirties I could feel it– Start writing, or all of it … Continue reading Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man, Hard Man Shouting in the Street Gonna Travel the World One Day