There is the idea of writing. There is the act of writing. Then there is everything in between.
We like to put the little guy to bed together. He tilts his Tiger pillow pet against the…
To put it even more bluntly: whereas one would have expected that a crisis of literacy would…
[caption id=”attachment_2623" align=”aligncenter” width=”464" caption=”William Blake’s Newton (1795), colour print with pen & ink and watercolour”]
I take Adderal.
I didn’t used to. I’m writing an essay about it — the working title is Understanding My…
Sitting in the second story of a two-story row house in Brooklyn’s South Slope, I searched for the voice that…
My sense of self and my private desires got boxed in a mile high in the sky yesterday. I almost…
I.
I called you as soon as I got back to my apartment. You picked up. My living room was hot. I couldn’t…
An old tree came down at the edge of the property in a windstorm. It sat below the cottage at the edge of the farm road…