I have a confession to make: I like the roaches. I think they are swell.Read more "Ode to an Infestation"
“Corvids have always written collective dot-dash sky-code. They are past scornfully enjoying the obliviousness of human observers. They no longer shape out rude slogans or rococo aerial slanders. No provocation ever provoked. There is a mournful air to their more recent, equally unread, messages.” – China MiévilleRead more "The Murdering Crows"
The teachers always made us read aloud. I remember, especially, Shakespeare; the old proud English our teenage tongues tripped over, shyly, never quite understanding the words. I was often aware in those classes, as we went around the room, that I was strange for liking it, though it was scary. I craved the read-aloud as a chance, a […]Read more "Read-Aloud Series 1: Li-Young Lee, “This Room and Everything In It”"
It’s a little weird that the world should keep turning; and my dear friends will maintain their own unique mental illnesses without such a man to write lyrically about them, in particular, unto them; and that his peculiar speech impediment–the lipped swallowing of R’s into W’s–will no longer exist from that mouth. He was a […]Read more "On the Timely Demise of Oliver Sacks"
Today on my porch I was drilling holes in PVC piping. Listening to a podcast piped into my ears. Falling into a rhythm of cutting, drilling, wiping away the bits of dusty white plastic. And then an animal droned my head. A female rufous hummingbird, no ruby-throat but still dressed in jewel tones, dusty soft […]Read more "The helicopter of doubt"
I’m sitting right back where I was last summer now, sitting in the same room with the cheap wooden desk and the grape vines shading the window. (It only now occurs to me in the second summer of living here—maybe dolmas? The second-floor grape vines are decorated with strings of beads, errant earrings and pendants hung there […]Read more "I send my rockets forth between my ears"
These are the sorts of moody-snit things I write while I’m on the subway, and really aggravated about being on the subway. I grew up in the woods! 1. The miles go by with no markers Except the flash of my window across them And several million lanky people Who I will never meet Have the same […]Read more "Some moody poem drafts"
“This is weird,” said my mother-in-law. “Good weird, or bad weird?” I asked, lifting a wooden spoon to my own lips for the millionth time, just to check. “Just…weird!” she said, scrunching up her face. But then she took a bowl from the cupboard, ladled herself a portion of my Saturday project, and curled up […]Read more "Good Weird Food"
My family is an adventurous bunch. (This past weekend, on a single day, I went kayaking with manatees and flying in a 4-seater plane with my aunt, uncle, and little cousin. Some people plan for retirement, my aunt plans to sail around the world. Everyday stuff for this clan.) I wouldn’t trade it for anything. […]Read more "Why I Still Avoid Dark Water: A radio story from my childhood"
Thanks to a vivacious ancient Greek dead guy named Seikilos, we have access to a piece of music that was popular nearly 4000 years ago, according to this post at the History Blog. I wonder about Seikilos. About his character. How he walked and held his drinks. We have this song because he had it […]Read more "For when you die, such will you be."