that time

The original trauma was birth and everthying that follows is but preparation for the trauma of death. Of letting go of all that we have learned. It is only through remembering that we can die because remembering is to forget.

For most of my life, I felt disconnected and adrift. My childhood was marked by abuse and neglect. I never

I believe I am the figment of a little boy’s imagination. He’s trying to imagine himself in the future. In a different future than the one he expects. I am ten years old imaging I am sixty-three.

(This is part of a series. You can read related posts here.) I had a bad fall. As in the

that was how it started, this is how it started, that death, this death, two points, on an imaginary line, only one point, on a circle, a clock...

i’m standing in a dark closet dreaming dreaming like a monkey what a monkey sounds like what a monkey sounds like when it stubs it’s toe

We were poor. Number 10-sized cans of mealy, sinewy, chicken guts, peanut butter, and powdered eggs. Embarrassing standing in line to pick it all up.

Most people think they know what makes a haiku, and most of them are wrong.

i took my dead mother for a walk last week at Land’s End, by chance i was just looking for easy access water to dump her in to dissolve her, i guess was the intention i didn’t give it that much thought

I don’t have writer’s block. I have writer’s fright. Nothing is permitted. Everything is true. I tell