Kudzu: part 6

Lucky

Drifting to a seat these days, the diesel momentum of the city bus pushes me to forget myself. Eyes turned every which way, twitching or unfocused. I make the passing houses blur into simple rhythms of up and down. In my right eye, I am a torn shadow, married to the half-mirror of…

10:17

Grandest of all mornings! And what drops of nervous sweat! already on the floor and smears on the keyboard. I know for sure that right now the shadow of the roofline has swallowed the tables by the window at the coffee-shop, too late? …… I sat there last week and…

Lunch Hour

At the onset of my habitual doubt and failing, I noticed that I could make very little change in my mood while I waded through long cursed lunch hours. Hours that unfold like the freedom of a slack leash, hardly worth the trouble.

Three years

I began to fail seriously some three years ago after arrogant and altogether mediocre beginnings. Even after several years of college-grad paychecks, I never really got hooked on that feel of money, slowly piling up in the bank, snowballing, and paying for…

Imagination

Always tickle-sneezy, my imagination shoots sparks or a meteor somewhere every day it seems. Really though, the sparks fly only half-wildly. Familiar pathways soon develop, claim gravity, and pull everything into a boring orbit.