Eight Friendships From Cicely
A man walks with a suitcase, left alone, a passing swing for the curbside, for the light. One drags it by. One stop to look up with a big eye and say, all day? It ain’t no other way. I just think it’s funny how people don’t know what they want, what they did, what they mean, what they say. I don’t like to say it in a way that makes sense; if they can do anything at all with it, they’ll miss. Sometimes I wonder if I’m talking to myself. It used to be the sound of the crows…
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Dearly Beloved
From the jump, the assumption was that it would come to nothing. It’s a pedestrian shushing – car tires on asphalt or runoff in gutters or boots in slush. All that matters is gold. The neighborhood lawns conspire to ignite from last night’s dusk a fire for the sunrise. Out of respect, you don’t reach for another cigarette. Your word is as good as the next.
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The Seventh
Circle round, rosy friends, circle round. Lend me your nosy ears and close your mouths. We know not what we say. I would tell you something if there was a way.
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Writ
Something’s up. The starlings are having a bread crust party outside my window, screaming and hopping and fighting between bites. I wonder if we could talk, and if so, about what. It’s been four years and a day, so I call you up and say “Hey, I didn’t grow up in a normal culture like what you see on TV, but did I see you on 4th at Something’th near the Something House? I thought I did. It was October 3rd.” I used to cry at family gatherings. Not my family’s, other people’s, mostly those of significant others. They would…
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Let Me Know If It’s On
Yesterday I heard someone say, “I want to get a sense of what everyone’s hunger level and desires are.” She was planning what to do next with her tour group. It was a treat for me to hear, but unless I wanted to mess it up, I couldn’t really thank her. And I knew the prompt was not for me to answer, as I was not a ticketholder. On the way home, I noticed the other two fireworks flowers had bloomed and were white, not purple. So the math in my previous post is wrong. There’s a cord in the…
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Open And Shut
Six of eight purple Fireworks Flowers along the brick sidewalk had burst. The other two were buds. The stems were parallel approximately, reminiscent of the sculpture at the bus stop on Frankford. I was temporarily awake thanks to a cold peppermint tea. Who would you say this to, because you certainly wouldn’t say it to me. How about this. There’s a rug store named Minimal Chaos. When I hear the name I begin working out how much chaos this place is known for. On the one hand, I think, Minimal. So, there’s a small amount of chaos, not a lot,…
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Your Fingerprints Are All Over This
I’ve been making a list of my clothes. It seems very compelling each time I begin. I go, Big Yellow Corduroy Sweatshirt, Black Jumper, Seaside Hoodie, Marine Layer Long Sleeves, Love Sweatshirt, Big Red Pants, Rainbow Long Sleeves, Gray Cropped Long Sleeves, White Lace Dress, Blue and White Print Short Dress, Blue and White Print Shorts, Short Denim Shorts, Mint Green Short Shorts, Black Work Pants, Comic Pants, Guess Sweatpants, Gray Dansko Pants, Black Hearts Sweater, Pink Cropped Sweater, White Cowell Neck Sweater, Yellow Cashmere Sweater, Van Gogh T-Shirt, DKNY T-Shirt, Gray Deconstructed T-Shirt, Green Gloria Vanderbilt Top, Old Navy…
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The At Last Of Tomorrow
Woof, I’ve been working my ass off in April. I saw a sign in the subway that said “1. I have something to say. 2. I know what happens next. 3. Nothing is going to stand in my way.” It was trying to teach little kids how to be writers. There’s another one with the same graphic design but it says “Take turns. Keep spying.” I didn’t pay as much attention to the context on that one, maybe it was for Social Studies? I know the schools have been closed off and on for a while. Have you ever thought…
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The Writing On The Wall
Four years ago today, I did this reading on South Street. About three blocks away from 1028. I turn dates into numbers, like if you were born on April 17th, like I was, then your birthday number would be 417. If you were born on August 31st, then your birthday number is 831. If you were born on May 3rd, it’s 503. So 1028 is October 28th. That ended up a few years later being the day my dad died, which is not really relevant to this story. I have to leave soon for a storytelling gig, so I’ll have…
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Introductions From Hoarders
“I’m Delores. I love to shop. But I’m out of control.” “I’m Jan. I’m from a small Texas town. My house is a disaster.” “I’m Jan and I’m an artist.” “I’m Joyce. I’m very embarrassed, OK?” “I’m Rick. I’ve got some problems in my life. You know, I’m trying to play with the hand I was dealt, and maybe I don’t always deal with it the right way.” “I’m T’Resa and I’m a mother, and I love almost every minute of it.” “I’m Carol. I’m 48. I have two jobs, and I’m a mother. I definitely would say I’m a…
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