Entries Tagged as 'Words'

Wednesday, August 20th, 2008

Reflections on the City

With a City like this, calamities are bound to happen. A elderly man slips down a narrow stairwell and dislocates his hip. Sirens interrupt throngs of hungry shoppers as two ladder trucks rush down the Market. A red-headed biker caroms off a distracted SUV, and snaps his collarbone. Blaring phones put 911 operators on edge. […]

Monday, May 19th, 2008

After the leap

There is nothing ahead but firelight, sweet chamomile tea, four ounces of froth and eraser dust. Suddenly, we too are children; we too are poppyleaf flowers riding rogue gusts of unbridled wind. The solace you seek lies one octave above, above the cloud cover, above the sorrow and heavy matters of dirt, scandal and earth. […]

Wednesday, October 10th, 2007

An Observance of Rain and its Effects

I. When the restlessness again enters my legs
We dare do what mere men dare not! We linger in the rain when mothers worldwide would frown, wagging their fingers at us children lollydallying in the puddles, stomping on muddy daisies, the rain soaking our pores. We run exclusively when it’s wet, through throngs of umbrellaed passerbys […]

Friday, October 5th, 2007

Let’s love when we’re young

Let’s love when we’re young, and let our freckles shine in the dark. Let’s love hastily and recklessly because we fear the cousins of the unknown. We might stumble and we might fall, but we have time, fearful, dreadful time on our side.
Let’s love when we’re old, and let our wrinkles count our bottled years. Let’s […]

Tuesday, October 2nd, 2007

morning anew

Six AM sun still slow
bite the chill of morning air and
a window left ajar
sirens and city noise are your serenade
as you stretch and shake off
cobwebs of yesterday. Seven.
 -8/28/2004

Saturday, January 6th, 2007

Two Years and Four Months

There are four of us in this room, keeping the six-o’clock watch marking the sun’s descent in this myrtle-green nightclub undergoing transformation to a sacred space, sawdust filling our nostrils and uncovering shafts of light leaking from skylights (and I sneeze).
One corner of the room is a cafe in a half-constructed state with orange walls, orange […]

Saturday, December 23rd, 2006

Imago Hominis

There is a strange art installation in the side of the Vuitton store here in the mall that my family walks through each night — a neon-rimmed iridescent parabolic reflector behind wall-to-wall glass, a bright bulb in the middle directing light into the center of the mall. Returning the gaze of the giant iris evokes a haunting […]

Thursday, June 22nd, 2006

A redefinition

Look up, look up, look up, look up. Life is far too beautiful, far too valuable to waste it on yourself. It is a gift; you are to love, live, give breathe. We were made with too many holes, I think. They accumulate, these scrapes and bruises as we teeter off bicycles, miss appointments, exhale […]

Wednesday, June 14th, 2006

Vignettes I

We sit in the van breathing the same air, together in the seven-seater as a family for the first time in many years. “It’s so weird,” my sister insists, “it’s so weird, graduating.” Four hundred families had celebrated her graduating class that afternoon.
My dad looks over the driver’s seat, “How does it feel?”
“It’s a weird feeling,” she […]

Thursday, May 18th, 2006

(I’m talking about human beings)

Do you ever worry about losing yourself in somebody else? That they would completely and fully engulf you in your every waking moment. That their words would become your words, their thoughts would become your own, their identity is transplanted into your own? Are you ever as missing as the empty pillow beside you; lonely […]