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.
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 ancient Soviet pipes, Left the water tasting Strongly of Iron from the kitchen sink. The old TV tower, like a monolith Alien in the sky over The Jewish quarter, And the medieval city. The cluttered old cemetery. Night bus like a chariot. They’ll sell you water For a few Crowns, but coffee is free. … Continue reading The Hunger Wall
My name, like courage, held in the drifting lights that faded away from the kitchen as we woke up. Backseat, waiting for your train. Strong aversions to how things had gone sour held out like pockets on the eastern front. I'd been here before, retracing felled ground, examining foothills and farmhouse nests, reclaiming my own … Continue reading Ironwood Drive
Board games on the coffee table with the dual innocence where we once were as children, but now soiled skin. There’s too much baggage in our collective bedrooms. So start anew at six and seven. Benefits of skipping the younger years, maybe fashion someone that will share in your condition. Throw open the sash after Christmas, a spring … Continue reading I Waterlogged the Electric Kettle
Take to your holds, your windswept hovels and your ships quarters. Below deck, down the old oak folding ladder with speed, and nearly run right into the center table where we ate dinner, built by my grandfather, suspended on a clever balance, like the stove, and the lanterns dry of oil. Take to your headaches … Continue reading Arthur Kill Ship Graveyard