Archive for the ‘A Writing Life’ Category

Interstitial Interstices 

They look like architectural drawings
these two words
Maps of pathways between things
all columns and arches
inviting us to enter into
—what—
the thing between everything
the you inside you
the imperfect chink in the crystal lattice
the weeds …

 

The Practice-Pant

On the surface, it is a short breath.

Sombra

But it is so much more. My dog pants to let me know things. He pants in front of the door to let me he has to go outside. He pants …

 

The Practice-Shard

Is it always a shattered bit with a knife-like edge?

No, I don’t think so…

On the beach, I used to find bits of glass so soft and rounded that I didn’t believe they were glass. They were jewels. The …

 

The Practice-Sanguine

Those joker doctors
Such godlike wisdom
Dividing us by humors:
Slow moving, Phlemy people
Predisposed to unexcitability
Got Phlegmatic.
The Bilious,
Whether from the Melancholy black or
Choleric yellow stuff
Were ill tempered.
Wouldn’t you be?
But the ruddy,
Apple …

 

The Practice-Cleave

Did it begin with the butcher
Or the lost soul?
Was the slicing first
or the joining?
These conundrums of beginnings
These chickens with their eggs
Same chicken but which came first?
Were we ever whole
Or did we begin …

 

The Practice-Redemption

The weight of it lands
thump in the middle of me
heavy in my palm
evil girl
lost girl
fallen from grace woman
If you do this
And this
And this
Oh so many this’s that you can barely lift …

 

The Practice-Treacle

It began in Greece as Theriakos—
A wild animal with teeth that tore holes in flesh.
Then it became Theriake and turned into a goopy serum
Poured into the gashes and wounds.
The Romans imported it as Theriaca
And repackaged …

 

The Practice-Woo

What is this little word that stares at me with two eyes?
Is it oogling me?
Is one of those eyes going to wink at me
And say, hey baby, come on over to the big W?
To which, I …

 

The Practice-Interregnum

Quick backstory: my (maternal) grandfather was legally blind. He was read to through college. Blindness did not hold him back. In fact, he hated being perceived as weak or disabled. He hated weakness. In himself or others. (There are many …

 

The Practice-Scorpion Heart

“It looks like a scorpion,” he said.
What?!?!? She thought. That’s a heart.
That’s clearly a heart.
How could it possibly look like a—oh wait,
He’s right. It does look like a scorpion.
And a heart.
And that’s when she …