above and below

“Self-destruction helps, but is rarely prescribed. Sure, I sleep little. Fight to lose the weight. Forget whatever it was I said to or heard from my wife yesterday, the day before, five minutes ago, but it’s cyclical and necessary. My routine for breaking routine.” … More above and below

no hands

A twelve-year-old girl keeps a sunfish in a bucket for days. One she caught while camping. She feeds it bits of leftover burger. Dried worms from the sidewalk. Poor, stupid moths that bang against her bedroom window. And ants. The sunfish floats. Surrounded by white walls. Under a narrow shaft of light. The big sky … More no hands

a simple particle

I think more people should write privately. Keep journals. Scribble away on scrap paper getting their thoughts straight, pouring out their guts, discussing what eats them up, inspires them, makes them happy or sad. People should do this every day. Once in the morning before they enter their daily life. And once at night before … More a simple particle

the paradigm

The month is wrapping up. Not that it matters much. Dates in boxes. Pages with pictures. Calendars quantifying our existence. Making other days more important than others. Conditioning us for deadlines and expectations, so that we conform.  Time is a construct. I am not 47. I am one and I am one-hundred. I’m yesterday and … More the paradigm

“We want the world, and we want it now.” ~ Jim Morrison

The virus is picking up pace again. At least that’s what the news reports. I’m not sure if it’s that more people are getting it or that we’re discovering that more people have it. I suppose that’s the same thing, but what I’m trying to get at is if we went around testing everyone to … More “We want the world, and we want it now.” ~ Jim Morrison

thirty-five degrees

Out of bed and down the stairs to open the old wooden door and take a breath of morning. It is cold. Twenty-nine degrees. Tiny white flakes drift and spiral in the air. It is Spring in Alpena, Michigan. Our neighborhood is silent, except for our American flag. A heavy-duty, hand-stitched beauty that’s got a … More thirty-five degrees

a work in progress

My boy. Fourteen today. 1 4. One. Four. Goddamn. He’s a good spirit. Has good intentions. Is not meant to be bound by the rules. I know this. And yet, I expect him to meet expectations that I know are bullshit. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What’s a forty-six year-old, chubby hubby and daddy to do when … More a work in progress

the pit

In the kitchen. Taxes on my mind. Knowing I need to get them done because if done right, we’ll get money back. We need this money to live this life we’re living. I understand that the sum of your belongings means nothing. But once you accumulate and have, you expect. It’s ridiculousness at its best. … More the pit