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I wake slowly, gauging the silence and the scent of the room. He doesn’t live with me anymore, but he visits sometimes. He leaves me notes where I will be sure to find them. Little folded-up messages. He misses me. He wishes we could be together. He wishes I understood …Inky liquid rage
Three seemingly unrelated events. First . . . An email discussion with a friend about religion. I don’t talk about religion very often because unless I am talking to someone who believes exactly as I do? There’s no point. No one is ever moved. No one ever says, “I never thought about it that …I am rocked Maj is two years old. I am enormously pregnant with Kallan. The three of us who are not quite the four of us . . . Mark, Maj, and I . . . walking in the mall. I don’t remember why we are there. I don’t remember what we need at the mall. It’s …Just like that The man behind the counter swings his hand up to bring my own hand down, “Yeah, the first thing you want to remember is that you never aim a gun at someone unless you mean to aim a gun at someone.” He brings my hand down with his, and the gun settles heavily on …The heart of a paper man |
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Red muck
I was reading a poem by Stephen Crane . . . Red Devils is the title.
Many red devils ran from my heart And out upon the page They were so tiny The pen could mash them And many struggled in the ink It was strange To write in this red muck Of things …Red muck