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

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

8:53 am

Fat and sugar, salt and caffeine lift me when they hit the bloodstream. So, I make Sunday breakfast for family. Eat sausage while it cooks. Sip fresh ground blonde roast. Listen to Holiday Classics and my son, as he tells my wife about his late-night spent eating burgers, broccoli, chili, rice, and chips. watching college … More 8:53 am

sunday morning storm

Up to the city siren and out of bed quickly to survey the situation. As if there’s anything I could do to save us. The fierce wind drives waves of rain. Trees and wires sway. Lawn chairs tumble across the yard. Bird feeders swing wildly on their hooks. A garbage can rolls down the street. … More sunday morning storm

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

bodies in motion

Food affects mood. So does sleep. Not doing what we want, or being what we’re meant to be. That kills us too. But all of us are dying. The sun’s gonna eat us alive in 6.5 billion years. Or maybe tonight, in dreams. I suppose that’s when Jesus will walk again. Or ride in on … More bodies in motion

shove it down

There are mornings I wake more rested than ever. Oddly enough, those are the days that typically lead me right down the shitter. I’m not sure why. Maybe it’s because I am not used to waking fully repaired. That’s what sleep is supposed to do, right? Rest us. Repair us. Prepare us. So we can … More shove it down