Many people carry around two certainties: that you cannot know what it is like to be them, but that they know what it is like to be you. The fact that there are rather obvious logical difficulties with this position in no way dissuades people from holding it. The intensity of our reactions to things … Continue reading "Wednesday Leftovers (1)"
Eight years old, looking around a brand new restaurant. All around the high walls are watercolor paintings. Sailboats in summer. Horses running in winter. Nobody has to teach us to love drawings and paintings, we just do. Showing what we see, using only our hands, is kind of an amazing thing. Loving color, loving the … Continue reading "Strange Markers (4)"
Humans play thoughtlessly upon the edge of great waters, even the one called “death”. Twenty-three years old, though, and while everything was done thoughtlessly, those waters had, frankly, come to look pretty inviting. January morning, bitter cold, a storm due in. Walking, walking, mile after mile. Another year ahead, another seemingly pointless year. Thinking, at … Continue reading "Strange Markers (3)"
At age thirteen, not much makes sense, so the young heart clings to traditions, where meaning is felt, and does not therefore need to be explained. Often, all the adults see is the confusion, which manifests itself in discontent and anger, and not the clinging, or the searching, or the questions, most of which are … Continue reading "Strange Markers (2)"
Grew up in Florida, rarely even seen snow. Twenty-two years old, fresh out of college, working in Florida, sent for a two week class in Ohio. In December. Started snowing the day after arrival. Walking around on the weekend, cutting across fields through snow, headed towards town. Ice on the roads, ice in eyebrows and … Continue reading "Strange Markers (1)"
calumnated, calcified, crowd-betrayed, commercialized, canker-ridden, catalyzed, comparatively civilized casually cantankerous, constantly co-rancorous, casanova cultural, castaway, and culpable
Yo, dude — What the hell is up with these low-T stories? You had a girlfriend in college, and never slept with her? I think I might know why she left you. Seriously. You know, it ruins poetry To have to explain it. But — I didn’t recount the story To make myself look good, … Continue reading "On A Reaction to My “5 Times” Poems"
Not all that heroic The way other people feel about sleeping in Is how I feel about going to bed early Not really that much into revenge I’m short of being a billionaire by roughly a billion dollars In terms of being a world-class Inventor-detective-athlete-martial artist, I’m 0 for 4 I won’t look nearly as … Continue reading "Why I Can’t Be Batman"
This poem’s ending happily, I’ll tell you right up front. It’s when the moon’s at syzygy You question if that’s quite a word: It is. And there’s the brunt Of what I mostly meant to say Today, tomorrow, yesterday — For there are words that you can see Like apogee, or perigee, Of doubtless authenticity. … Continue reading "At Syzygy"