Evening writing exercise

Tunnel first. West by bus and into the sunset. The neediness of everyone still wringing in my ears. The sound and…

Morning writing exercise

Traveling east by bus. The morning, like most mornings is rote movement. The traffic on either side sits listening to radio or streams or saved bytes. Some relaxed, some contemplative, some late, some early. The singing and the sneering compete for the lane while the drivers, the…

Present Progressive

If the last eighteen months has taught me anything it has taught me that the world I was born into — where the moral arc of…

Frustration.

There is just too much

Stupidity in the air

I dare not write.

Contribute to it.

Feed it.

Words and images and

The object at the back of the fridge

Personalities split… shards of separate reality litter the screen with the slow motion ambiance of instant replay. A fantastic distortion of identity wakes the mind from its night of dreams and pokes it into wakefulness. I remember the field. It is now alone in the…

Another small town writhing in American emptiness

Things back east haven’t been as good as Gene had told everyone they were. He was home, visiting his mother, going all around town telling everyone who would give him the chance to that he was some sort of director of some kind of department in…

Such a thing.

It is a thing that nobody has ever said before.

A string.

A thought.

A line.

A clause.

A trope.

Can the human-now find harmony with the cosmic-now?

It’s changing… everything is changing. Global highs have been grouped neatly with record lows and the cyclical rhythm of nature has yielded to a chaotic flurry of novelty and extremes. Dependability is out the window and there is no longer…