What can YOU say in six sentences?
"So do you ever start out to write a poem and it turns into a song or vice versa?"
"Well, sometimes it turns into a painting."
As he speaks of the still point the dabblers in writing sift out the door while those of us who are hard-core remember the song he wrote about if wishes were horses, beggars would ride, and "I want your body like I want your heart."
And then there was the morning before when someone read aloud Terry Tempest Williams'…Continue
Yesterday we were e-mailing about how bizarre this manuscript is going to be and he tried to out-bizarre me by telling about walking across campus when he saw a girl he knew selling tickets to the Vagina Monologues.
He told her regretfully that he was already booked for the evening of the show, but he did buy some vagina-shaped lollipops from her, 2 for $5.
Reportedly they are chocolate, pink and white and red??????
I didn't get all of the story told to my partner last…Continue
The waitress, her trainee in tow, both very young, approached the beared man at the head of the table to take the drink orders of the party that had pushed two tables together though it was late for dining.
Ever the wise-ass he said, "Bring me a Cabernet whose name I'd recognize," but the girl looked confused and turned to her trainee and then back again, "Well, my name is Judy and this is Tiffany."
The bearded man saw that the wine list was going to be a problem so he asked…Continue
It is really an odd thing to sit in a parked truck and watch the world go by on an ordinary street... a secretary coming back from lunch, a student carrying groceries into the one-sixth of an older home he is renting, next door to the house with two signs on the siding: an attorney-at-law and a psychotherapist.
I wish I could see what the student in heel-ragged jeans bought to eat.
The patch of snow on that roof is getting visibly smaller by the drip.
What I am really…Continue
There are foxes in my dreams, and their mating calls haunt me.
There are water animals swimming through my life and they leave their slippery trails.
I don't like to turn on the television in hotel rooms and I toss and turn, missing my heavy wool blankets while that strange hot air blows from vents.
I think I miss the pecan trees from my childhood and that old brown pickup my dad had and maybe that fleeting something else that smelled like a baby brother, but truly what…Continue
We are the same age.
We see each other once a year, in mid-winter, and I watch her weave in and out of the clusters of people in the hot heavy rooms, a plain black thread until the flash of her camera shines silver.
I've already had babies and am now hatching a career; she's already has a career and it is closely confined now by her nesting with Katie.
We were acquaintances and then friends during one four-day cluster a year, the only thing we have in common.
So there is this big award coming up and the ones who decide it know her name, and jesusgod it would be cool if they knew her words, her work.
So there is this west coast rep of a big apple firm who is currently holding her manuscript and jesusgod she hopes actually reading it.
So there is this man who loves her more than she loves him, still, and jesusgod it is annoying when the love…Continue
And then there is this waiting in my wings, almost as if they miss the flapping awkwardness of getting off the ground, the effort and struggle to leave the dirt and comfort of earth, but I am not sure they remember the soaring.
And then there is this feeling of fins and gills, as if I should rest on the bottom of the ocean for a bit with its weight as my blanket and its roar as my song.
And then there are these phantom claws growing from my fingertips aching to dig into the…Continue