Sometimes, I imagine what it must be like to be buried underground. When I miss my cousin terribly, I think about rolling back the grave grass like a carpet. Like a blanket, or a sheet. I could unbury him, and watch the ground unfurl. When I was little, I was captured by the story of …
Continue reading The Graveyard
My cousin told me once that when she was trying to quit smoking, she buried her tobacco. She walked all along down the beach until she found a place within the sand and she buried it. If I remember right, she rolled one last cigarette before she nested the loose shreds of leaves into the …
Nothing is too ugly for this world. I think, rather, it is us pretending not to see. My father tells me a story, about my grandfather’s funeral, and how an uncle approached him and asked if he had seen the casket yet. I am two, maybe three, on some stranger’s lap probably beside my brother, …
Continue reading Bad Hairdo at a Funeral
Watch this Video I said that when I revamped the blog, it was going to be different than it was before. A bit more real—more rugged and more raw. Exploratory. Experimental. I think, if anything, it’s proven mostly to be confusing to the people who are close to me. Our society is a social media …
Continue reading A Note on Misplaced Worry
Today, I placed my forehead on the keyboard and typed the letter j a hundred times. With my nose. The tip of it. Something soothing in the motion. I never loved the letter j and yet here I am, a stream of jjjjjjjjjjjjjjjjs across the page. I was supposed to water my grandmother’s roses today, …
Continue reading A Haunted House and Dying
Render. What is this body I have made? How strange, this physicality of self. The things I have become, and all of those I haven’t. Sometimes, when my eyes are not quite working right, I look like someone else inside the mirror. Unfamiliar. Foreign. I wonder if my mother would still know me—but, of course, …
At the grocery store this week, a woman dropped a box of blueberries. They went everywhere. She was too old to pick them up, and people up and down the aisles just stopped and stared. I just stopped and stared. Her trembling voice, shouting “Cleanup—I need a cleanup!” Embarrassed. Close to tears. Fucking blueberries. All …
Continue reading Feeling Blue[berries]
Today when Adam left for work, we spent a long time in the doorway wrapped up in each other’s arms. A long time. An I-don’t-want-to-let-you-go amount of time. How fucking lucky am I that I still have him to hold onto, because some of my neighbors woke up without that gift. Some fathers today woke …
Continue reading When it Hits Home: A Shooting Next Door
The Wild Heart of Life 