Here's something that I apparently saved as a draft last spring. I found it a week or so ago, and I don't think I'll spend any more time on it, but as it was just recently Imbolc, and we had a 60º day Wednesday (despite the blizzard since) I thought I'd post it as a welcome to nascent Spring.… Continue reading Prima Vera
Looking out upon falling snow in a fierce wind, having read the latest news (that has spoiled my coffee, again—) Gone cold, with my views or once-belief regarding some inherent goodness— A bleak feeling that renders even this brutal, unkind weather beautiful Gentle, by comparison. Each day, what counts as News defiles sense. Escalation, unsustainable (please) Noah's mythical flood Now… Continue reading Looking out upon falling snow in a fierce wind
On a cold, windy weekend I contrived a little garland of fabric flags— droll points affixed at intervals to a length of pale ribbon because the undraped window looked dreary and forlorn. Days later I looked at them, trying to gauge whether they cheered. Outside, the trees wore bright-gold leaves, a yellow burst against the… Continue reading fabric flags
From a congress of reeds along the water’s edge A white crane rose on a silent vector— horizon-wise...
Waning of summer month, end of beach weather month. Back to work and back to school month. Memory— no A pattern, died in the wool. Buckled-up books, backpacks, cardigans. Skirts and stockings and closed-up shoes that suddenly feel too tight. Early rising, hasty breakfasting— Tie your shoes and Don’t forget your lunch and The bus… Continue reading September
It’s been six months. You’re still gone. Apart has become normal even to us. Absence is absence, but we get on. We’re fine, we're Good. We speak rarely, but feel every day. Maybe that’s why the silence. Words are too articulate— they make things real. I’ve been drawing, writing, living. You too. Past is past. I’m… Continue reading The away team wears grey ’cause they’re Away
Here's a little thing I wrote this morning, a silly-sweet ode to my friends. To friendship, I suppose. (maybe fiendship, haha.) Comrades in arms We’re a cartoon parade a platoon volatile and jolly. A second line, a peanut gallery sporting rotten things— vim and vitriol, endless collaborations of mockery and gentle mean-spiritedness. A swirling whirl, bright splinters and barbs; elaborate scenarios that populate and… Continue reading We who have each other’s backs
Something in the air shifts, and I lie down with the cows before the rain arrives. It isn’t barometric.
A sudden downpour— Shrieks erupt across the street, the playground empties.
When I watch the fishes in their tank, that crystal stillness, set apart from the rumblings of the city out the window, the filter-soft bubbles cascading, the plants breathing to them— I see only their ballet. They are water, they are breath, they are words that will never be words. They are also the rumbling.… Continue reading They are also the rumbling
e daggar art: THE MUSEUM 