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Please forgive my delay in response
A long intermissionI have stayed up too late ( Read more... ) -
We wish you the best of luck
secured for future need
My grandmother is dead and there is nothing to be done.
This grief is buried somewhere
I will tread on like a landmine.
I kiss her casket and say I love you.
She does not reply
I love you more.She is interred after my grandfather ( Read more... ) -
Apologies
To the black widow spider whom I have just killed;allow me to offer my apologies ( Read more... ) -
"Let's do this again sometime."
In perpetuity
The night of the funeral
we walked down to the beach.
In only our sweaters, we broke the crust of snow.
The cold was an afterthought,
a handkerchief froze in my pocket.
The trees percussed
and he said: we haven't seen stars since we moved to the city.Above us, and below, a thousand beacons blinked ( Read more... ) -
I'll be home for next year
Someday I would like to build a small modern house ( Read more... ) -
I'll be kind and I'll be sweet if you stop staring straight through me.
The MidwayI feel as though I’ve learned something ( Read more... ) -
Hang a shining star up on the highest bow; and have yourself a Merry Little Christmas now.
There are a lot of firsts today; our first green Christmas (it is 48 degrees outside. FORTY-EIGHT.) our first Christmas anywhere else other than Marquette, our first Christmas as married people. This week we made our first gingerbread house, cappelletti, Christmas eve dinner. Firsts are weird, but necessary ( Read more... ) -
This is how it goes.
Question to the universe: Am I going to feel lost forever? -
Forget the floral arrangements and bread makers
This time of year I'm always slightly nostalgic but overwhelmingly thankful for the situation I currently find myself in, and not the situation I have found myself in before. This is the time of change; of movements and tides. Something about late August says REM's Night-swimming and the yellow light over turnpikes at midnight and Matti getting in ( Read more... ) -
Stop crying your heart out
variations on being sad
I wish my anger
were a physical thing:
A rock or a tear
in the fabric.
Something I could hit
or pull,
or light on fire
the way a corner of the last letter
lying on the fire arches
and burns,
shriveling up.
A silent death.
Instead I'm just sad
and my letters
give me paper cuts
instead of satisfaction.
__
I'm never ( Read more... )