Then to discover we both go
first for that old chipped blue soup bowl
Is that love?
essays | fiction | poetry | photography | art
Then to discover we both go
first for that old chipped blue soup bowl
Is that love?
That night that the piano man and I first slept together was the night we discovered the pleasure of talking aloud about murder.
I spilled pinot noir on the bed sheet
and said I was a virgin.
In Time I Find Strength, in Time I Get Caught in the Memories of Food There had been a time when I had been told that if I had to go through the most important events in my life I would remember only a mere hour of them, all of them painfully squished against each…
Unlike a jellyfish, she has a brain but doubts her instinct for survival.
swoop siren, dive under.
We are bound to nature, worms and dirt, we come from earth, and to earth we will return.
The train leans through
the Highland line, Inverness
to Fearn, wheat either side.
This carriage bows for you.
“Ignorance produces hate, knowing is the best way to tackle ignorance, and empathy is the only path to love.”
i was scared to make this poem /
treat them right / they never
came close to meeting in life
When did writing
become such a warm meeting place?
The wolf spider gestured to me from across the tub, unfurling four legs from behind the metal cover obscuring overflow drain to greet me, naked and alone in a foot of bath water. This memory stands in isolation, as remote memories of a young child often are. The memory itself creeps from a drain, simply…
Hamamatsu: home of unagi pie –– a biscuit made of eel.
Iwakuni: bridge of Samurai –– beer with strangers under blossom.