they’re framing in rowhouses on the corner lot
where i once paused to watch the sunset over the thick green grass
All articles filed in memory
every old thing
she walks softly
over the rug the grandmothers
wove knot by silken knot
all that’s left
all the old faces invaded my dreams last night
bringing with them a sense of homesickness for the days we shared
granny’s dollies
last thanksgiving granny gave me her dollies
we carefully lifted them from their wrappings
smoothed their skirts, their faces
said their names
all i know of luxumbourg
all i know of luxembourg
is a petrol station
fürchtenmachen
i heard the voices rise and fall
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dear joan
“… I have already lost touch with a couple of people I used to be.” — Joan Didion, Slouching Toward Bethlehem
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underneath
last september marked five years since my brain surgery. if it weren’t for the scar beneath my hair and the titanium plate in my skull, by now i might think it was all just another a strange dream. “scars have the strange power to remind us that our past is real.” ― cormac mccarthy, all…
Read Moreremembering the future
i’ve lost a poem. this, i suppose, is the danger of composing most works online and then transferring them to computer file or paper later. it feels like having lost a friend or a treasured memory. actually, i wonder if i deleted it in a moment of panic. it described something i’d seen quite vividly…
Read Morewhat dreams
we were driving through a run-down downtown toward dusk, and the sky was an angry orangey-red, like charn when the sun was dying. you were taking me home. “home.” it was an old mill turned office building or apartments. home in these dreamscapes is rarely what it should be. or always what it can’t be.…
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