November 2020 Writing

In stone and sky a universe not yet grounded of foot and claw in shallow seas   not yet sea grass to slow an ocean's roil keep salt safe along a shore   came the joy of cyanobacteria in its blue-green glory gulping in   the light of the sun, rising on...

I recline voluptuously on the chaise lounge, or as I prefer, Recamier. A violet ribbon loosely contains my slightly tussled chestnut hair. A wisp coyly covers the corner of my right eye. Cheeks blush with lingering passion. Your warmth lingers on my partly exposed...

We measure the distance in decibels We are as far from the sirens as we can get sonically equidistant from what counts as horizon This tree is the new global axis tall and straight as a season gnarls around it When we were growing we learned to not be greedy but now...

I wish it was raining. I wish there was the tapdance of droplets on the window panes and the chase of beads across the glass. I wish there was the sluice of water on streets and the noisome heat held in the chest by a good coat and a sense of adventure. I wish I was...

What remains of Mark sits upstairs in storage.   Lying immobile on the floor with a black cloth covering his eyes, breath control engages. The mathematician struggles to arrest a persistent repetitive ankle flexion, only to find it quickly kicks back in after the...

You let me drive. You let me choose the radio station. You rested your huge head against the headrest and closed your eyes. You were never a willing passenger. All firsts. Seventy-five quiet kilometers to the Regional Palliative Care Clinic. I walked the Thames...

The painter remains removed from scene, too far away to make out love or gender; far enough away only the orange glow of a bustling cafe at night seems sure—sure enough to make the sky almost blue and the cobblestone violet and green—the way oil might play with light...

after Zork 1 I’m on the phone with Todd and he’s having a feigned cry. Anitra and Julie are at Todd’s. Listen from another phone in the house. He tells me he’s in love with me but that’s a lie. I smack keys on a mechanical keyboard. Hear the muffled snickering of...

Hi everyone! OMG elections! Have a productive month. I can't wait to lurk in the background and read what everyone comes up with. I loved Robert's notes this time around. That Glück poem! Here's an extremely awkward video of her reacting to the attention of her Nobel...