Category: wandering mind

We end with our hands. I’m feeling a bit wounded today. Making X’s with strangers on the street. I don’t look at them. I don’t want to see them. Some teenager flipped me off for driving too close to him and trying to pass as he was turning right. This was the other night and…

It’s raining again. A quiet rain almost too light to make pattering sounds on my umbrella. Looking up the clouds gate the sky in gray. Why is the world so quiet without a sky? I was late this morning and didn’t care. I was still the first one here. Waking up an hour early from…

Dried milk on the asphalt existed in someone’s hand once. Now streaked like saliva from a rabid dog, the small carton – a mouth agape. I was trying to imagine the instant the high schooler smashed the small cardboard heart to the ground. Was he laughing? Was he fighting? Were his friends egging him on?…

I don’t know why but having a beer after playing soccer is one of the most wonderful indulgences ever. It completely defeats the purpose of working out and probably dehydrates me more, but my Newcastle Brown humming with Government Mule’s theme song makes me forget that I’m too old to sprint for an hour. Last…

A bulging woman teeters across the crosswalk in a motorized wheelchair. Her gray pants, her black shirt, her medically-braced booties all ripple under skin’s pressure. Each movement is a bounce forward then back. A bobblehead’s street life. She has no smile, no neck, no elbows. She has no chin, weighted lungs. Could you breathe in…

I accidentally killed a spider this morning. I’m sorry spider. It was dangling in the doorway to the balcony. I was still fresh from a dream, about what I can’t remember, but all I wanted was for it NOT to come in the house and it was spinning that way – legs lurching and hairy…

Past the flood walls, on a small hill, neighbors flick cigarette butts in our overgrown yard. The push mower only pushes weeds, so we let them grow under the Chinese elm tree’s chameleon leaves – one side is fall, the other spring. We’re between two worlds. We’re always east of west and north of south.…

A beer and a bubble bath: sarnac hefeweizen and booth’s shea butter cream bath. Dear friend, this was the best idea you’ve ever had. I’m thinking of someone and not because I’m naked – it’s nothing like that though my breasts stand out like cones in a construction zone – how are they so white…

We are called today in hearts. To walk against the torrid rain. If I knew where you lived I would rock, holding yours cresting over it all. We are blood diamonds and mine is pointed north and out of breath. On a cold, wet stoop I watch a child covered in a yellow blanket, a…

I want to f*&% and write today. Is that too personal for blogland? Maybe… but it’s how I feel – I haven’t felt the need to ram something out in a while and maybe it’s because I didn’t take my little blue pill yesterday and the wild itch is rising back up or maybe it’s…