There were black flies buzzing about my head, when you and I gave a slight wave of recognition. I haven't seen you in a long while. I'd really been hoping never to see you again- now that we were done with college, and upon leaving we mutually decided not remark any sort of goodbye. So it … Continue reading Zombie Ant Fungus
In the morning, in Prozac dreams, I have known myself to go to war. The fields of battle used to move and speak to me. I knew them as friends, from when I was younger than I am now. At the end of our time together, none of them ever said goodbye, even though I … Continue reading Great Camp Sagamore, and my Great War
Give up on that 70's and 80's music , like giving up on your weekend plans. Listening to words is something not typically associated with your miscellaneous habits, of which have existed since Shaker Heights and the jumping off the water fall and the mob bombings in your hometown. Cleveland Ohio, where the suicidal men … Continue reading Thoughts On the Music My Father Used to Listen to When He Was Once My Age, or Thereabouts.
I’ve seen you in recently taken pictures. The niceties of souvenir t-shirts, suns of the south. Fuck me, maybe you’ll soon have one of your own. For them, you stand near the back with a smile. When they grow up, they’ll remember you, and they’ll recall the warm Florida air the way I once did, … Continue reading The Principle of Distinction
If you go to Belfast Ireland, a short walk will bring you to the Harland and Wolff shipyards, where the Titanic and Olympic were built and launched in 1911. They don’t build ships there anymore. The large yellow crane is just for show now. But at the mouth of the harbor is the modern angular … Continue reading Essay: H & W Yard Numbers 400 and 401
The St Ives fisherman’s co-operative at the end of the wharf near Smeaton’s Pier sits quiet compared to the ice cream shops and fish and chips shops. In the windows are things attuned to the casual visitor. A few days after I went I read about the shop, which had been there since the 1920’s. … Continue reading Essay: “Guy Cotten” in Yellow
My room is on the first floor, off of the great hall. Its not really ours any more though- its on the market. It was after Avalon was sold, a little after my grandfather died. When the Green Knight came to call, and Tristan and Isolde were best friends until she of the white hands, … Continue reading Embrasure