Happy New Year ( Read more... )

In my sweater the color of kitchen twine you cannot unravel me ( Read more... )

The stars are coldly bright, the long dead grass glitters like a prom dress. My breath streams out like an expectant horse. The moon has shrunk from a great juicy orange slice to a darkening sliver ( Read more... )

I see you over there, Milwaukee, glittering in the distance. Over five miles of rooftops and potholed streets I see downtown rising up, white and orange against this Klein blue November sky. Funny how all downtowns seem like the heart of the city, but they're not. The heart of the city is the river, it is the neighborhood you walk through every day ( Read more... )

Things I probably shouldn't have done this weekend ( Read more... )

I'm inconsolably nostalgic. Which is perhaps another way to say homesick.

Also my trigger finger hurts. I still wish I were chainsawing all day, because then I didn't have time to think.

The days are closing out! I feel it in my bones and my migratory heart.

Is deliberate recklessness really that reckless? Is choosing to be irresponsible worse than doing it by accident? Is ignoring problems worse than letting them become overpowering?

Sometimes I'm secretive because I don't know what I'm doing. Sometimes I'm sneaky because I know all too well.

"I wore your thermal shirt to bed to keep your skin against my skin" sings Brian Whitson. I love wearing other people's clothes, it is such a lovely intimacy even if its not any specific type of intimacy. It is mostly like a hug, a really nostalgic hug ( Read more... )

September comes with new moon dreams, rain clouds, lightning over the lake, alternating days of chill and blazing heat ( Read more... )

Mike ran after, howling, as I skipped down a woody path. When we met up we started galloping, pretending we were on horses. We spurred them on with invisible reins, kicked their sides, shouted at them when they nipped each other or started grazing on grass ( Read more... )