Whenever you go away, I get homesick.


Whenever you go away, I get homesick.
There are telling little mistakes in my handwriting.
I’m not here.
I try to be alone with the birds.
I take a bath, go outside, and think about how the air feels.
And the sun.
I seek sensations instead of memories.
Memory is never the delight it promises to be.
Crunching dry leaves in my fingers, I feel like I belong on earth,
but catching myself, I become self-conscious.
I make a weird kind of sense
in your context.
Even with the bullshit.
The things couples hide:
the expert fights,
the surgical strikes that make a late-night wasteland of our kitchen
when the pilots are drunk and grieving.
I know that kitchen — I know
what I will be feeling when we stand close together or far apart.
I’m comfortable with my rage and my fear.
I have always been afraid of the same things,
and one of them is love.

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What I’m Reading: Ada by Gertrude Stein


by Gertrude Stein

Purchased at Third Eye Comics in Annapolis, MD.

I don’t want to ruin it by trying to tell you about it.

I think it’s about finding a way to love and be happy. The writing is hypnotic, and Stein’s sparse language points out just how much we don’t have to say. Every time a character says nothing, they say everything.


The artwork throughout is beautiful, but I want you to see that for yourself.


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The smoldering of January —
life pressed into the deep
hiding place of earth —
she is awake inside
the watchful bride
as fools grow murderous in their sleep.
Her bat-cry blood calls out,
and starlight echoes back.
She navigates the black
by the sound of her own voice.

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Monday Night Nonfiction: the robot

Robot graffiti

Here is a weird little thing I wrote the other day.

the robot turned her head
from left to right.
it is a she because
it is beautiful.
if this was what they called being alive
she guessed
she liked it
the way her metal joints would slide
she liked the whir of
her electricity.
the robot turned her eyes on
and then she turned them off.
the robot turned her eyes on.
and then she turned them off.
the robot turned her eyes on.
the robot found herself a heart
until she got her own
it would do.
the robot said her prayers.
the robot was Very Good.
the robot did a sad dance
but the body said “joy” with its grace
and the robot took flight.

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