Grandpa

Not long ago, my grandfather made the declaration that he wanted to be buried next to my grandmother when he died.  Those in the room with him grew a bit uncomfortable and reminded him that she was cremated.  He paused, slumped over as he had become near his neck, and slowly mumbled, “Oh yes, she’s…

(XXVII)

It’s strange.  You look at the advertisements and you expect them to explain it all, not just entice; when, let’s be honest enticing is what it’s supposed to do, through and through. I ride through the streets, as if I’m looking over the artwork and judging it; sighing and sweeping and taking all colors and…

(XXVI)

My brain is scattershot.  Like the books that surround me in my apartment–small, askew stacks that find themselves to the right of my couch, on my kitchen table, in my bathroom, in my bed, on my nightstand–I have thoughts that lead to thoughts that lead to discovery.  I pick up a book and I read…

meteor shower

I asked you to show me your body, and you did with a crooked grin on your face, your teeth–cleaned every six months, and there, too, is your mother–giggling and pushing down on me, speaking to me: “oh, when you do that”, pulling my hands to you to create callus. A leaking emptiness raising inside…

flippant

Something about a city at midnight, concrete and full, lights speaking between the cracks our feet do miss; here, January 1, 2012, hand raised for a cab, unaware and unprepared for what is waiting: How I could sit with her across from me, a bag behind her and full of something and my eye is…

Son

“Rolling Stone” is probably the most iconic term in the history of Rock and Roll.  Of course, we have the magazine, but before that we have perhaps the greatest sneer in rock history, Dylan’s Like a Rolling Stone; and before that, the band, The Rolling Stones; but first, it was a Muddy Waters song.  Each occurrence of…

ruby

Now I am trying not to die in all ways– least of all the body, although that too will die as the evening of my life winds down into something like a crumbling epistle; but to let my ambition die, as well as lethargy…that, left to its devices, spawns ambition out of pure desperation to remain…

(XXV)

My Saturdays are best spent falling in love with women in bookstores. Sure, I wake up and I read and wonder at the amount I have slept from the night before; I work a little and I run; I come home waiting for that burst of energy. I worry that I’m dying. And then I…

(XXIV)

It seems preposterous, probably bordering on pretension and unoriginality, for me to be writing about reading again, but fuck it–here goes. I often say out loud to anyone who will listen, “There are (insert large number) of reasons that I read and all of them are good.” Certainly, that is bloviating and hyperbolic, but it’s…

02/04/13

Forgive me, I’ve had two glasses of wine. I wonder if my teeth are how they were in Ohio–purple and smiling.  I drank a lot of wine that summer in Ohio and I became very accustomed to that drunk: a wine drunk, rich with joy and forgetfulness, very different from the torrents of drunk I…