hurricane: a sketch

My body is no longer firm and terrestrial; it is resolved into its constituent atoms, subtilized, volatilized. Sublimed into imponderable vapor, I mingle and am lost in the endless sources of those vast globular volumes of vaporous mists, which roll upon their flaming orbits through infinite space.Journey to the Center of the Earth i was… Continue reading hurricane: a sketch

backwards

life is continually and inexorably chronological, but there’s no rule against writing it backwards. especially when life is a bit backwards right now, and my shirt is inside out. so instead of a dawn, I’ll begin with a sunset. squinting eyes and sweaty foreheads as a sister of 9 years tramps besides me west down… Continue reading backwards

bits and pieces

substance. something that is lost between 2 half-written songs and 3 post drafts and 4 works-in-progress and 5 assignments all due within 3 days. when you're an all-or-nothing person, it hurts to have so many pieces of you in so many different places. a thin spread of mediocrity over 16 different projects sits uneasily in… Continue reading bits and pieces

dear school

dear school, i know, i know ... you weren't supposed to end until late may anyways. and it's only the end of april now. 'can't you just hold on for 4 more weeks?' you ask. it sounds reasonable to the administration, to the teachers, to our parents - even to myself, at first. it can't… Continue reading dear school

2 am: a sketch

the rain upstairs sounds like popcorn kernels popping in the microwave. the rain in the basement sounds like the gentle sloppiness of a toad plodding his wet way through muddy gravel. ~ ~ ~ it's 2 am and you've been avoiding it for several hours now. you've been watching singing videos instead, because you like… Continue reading 2 am: a sketch

jul

she was just 10 years old and she had been a wild pony for the first 9 of her life. her parents' friends had given them "The Strong-Willed Child" in an effort to tame her enormous personality. one small montessori school couldn't contain her stallion spirit and had sent her back home. she had tripped… Continue reading jul

don’t close your eyes, child

01/06/20 there’s a minty taste in my mouth as I climb into the rental car and wave goodbye to my grandparents. they're standing besides the flowering mailbox nestled beneath the shade of a magnificent oak tree, hanging with the antique paraphernalia that seems to inhabit every corner of the old orange-stone house. i can still… Continue reading don’t close your eyes, child