i like it

There’s danger in getting too far ahead. In thought. In action. In words. Even if you know something deep in your core, sometimes it’s best to wait to make mention of it. Time may not exist, but it’s in control. Desire for the physical is fading. There’s an appeal from within for a slower pace. … More i like it

next

The moon’s still out. High above Eddie’s place across the street. I saw it while putting cat shit in the garbage can. This morning, I don’t feel I’m missing out on—or missing—anything. Life is fine. There’s a comfortable lull of contentedness wrapping up all around me this morning. I don’t feel guilty about it, either. … More next

our big trip

Some mornings I want to wake slowly. Watch myself in the mirror as I brush my teeth and give myself the benefit of the doubt. Some forgiveness. Overall, we’ve done well. We’re not finished by any means. There’s still so much more living to do. But there are days—like this Summer Sunday morning, feeling closer … More our big trip

phantom hangover

Dreamt I drank. Felt guilty as hell. There was no desire to drink. Just did it. I was driving my son’s car. 2009 Toyota Corolla LE. Going to get it tuned up for him at a friend’s garage. Strange. Surreal. Exciting and worrisome, as dreams often are. I felt good, buzzed up, but I knew … More phantom hangover

a prayer

I wrote A Prayer in 2004. I was a different person, but I wasn’t.  There’s immaturity in that writing. That’s natural. As artists, we grow—if we dedicate time to the craft. What was best though. was seeing that I’d grown as a person. I don’t even recognize some of the stories. I get the meaning. … More a prayer

the obvious

Mayflies dot damp sidewalks as we move along with the dogs. Our morning exercise between bouts of rain. The routes we take are the same. There are only so many streets in this town. Best we can do is switch up our lefts and rights to see the world from different angles at different times. … More the obvious

bird, apple, orange

Bird, apple, orange. I’m happy to be torn. Into so many pieces. They see me. Different directions. The refraction. Light on my edges. The kids’ drip, drip, dripping faucet. The bathroom sink. My little boy is 15. He has a razor and shaves. My little girl is 11. She wears eye shadow sometimes. They are … More bird, apple, orange

distillation

You know how you wake up with a song in your head and it sticks there while? What if you put on the headphones and played that song? And what if you did it every time you woke with a song in your brain? Would it change the course of your day? I think the … More distillation

seven months

Drinking stops, but thinking does not. As you learn to live all over again—taking baby steps—the world around you continues.

Thirty years of steady alcohol intake trains the body and brain. You don’t notice the aches. Pain. When you’re frustrated, you drink. If you’re tired, you drink. Happy, you drink. Sad, you drink. Drinking goes with everything.

“I’d rather have a bottle in front of me, than a frontal lobotomy.”
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backroads

Get in and ride. Take the fork. Bend the spoon. Let the roads expand perception and create our path. Ignore the compass. Follow the shapeshifting clouds. Climb the gravelly hill. Roll and brake down the sandy slope. Gas it through the water hole. Let’s open the moonroof and the windows. Let the lake, earth and … More backroads