“I am the place in which something has occurred.” — Claude Lévi–Strauss What is here labelled as “something,” must be aggrandized. “Something” is too broad a descriptor. So, is it more direct to say I am the place in which many a thing has happened? Is this a better means of explaining in a single … More The Sieve Bored Holier
Find no purpose here!—unless purpose can be distilled from the peculiarities of the sights and sounds of one man’s collection of lines taken down while pretending to send text messages or at a urinal during a summer evening out in an eclectic Philadelphia neighborhood. Frankfort Hall. Beer garden. Biergarten? I’ll settle on the former. … More An Evening Out in Fishtown, or the shabbily doctored-up bits of observation I typed into my phone on the evening of August 19, 2016.
Breathing comes naturally. You launch from of your mother’s insides—POP!—equipped with innate survival skills, preprogrammed to do something you will do until the last day you are alive. How peculiar (because the action is automatic) are those moments when you are aware of the ebb and flow of the air you are filtering? You can … More Breadth of Breath
INT – A MODEST DWELLING – LATE NIGHT The slim frame of ALEC passes a doorway where a man with grey in his beard sits facing the other direction. BARRY stirs in his chair and calls the figure he hears rustling in the other room to come speak with him. BARRY speaks, inaudibly, to the … More Measurable Time
Romance is an exercise in myth building. When a new relationship is on the rise, budding rosebuds are gathered while the wilted are buried away. We pull together moments and save artifacts and write a history for our lives as newly paired duos. We destroy, to an extent, our former lives. We become revisionist historians, … More Purporting Romance Mythically
White dress white dress how softly compressed prismatic coordinates printed over a spectrum of threads matching sheets covering the little table and chairs in the upper room of consciousness. White—no color or all the colors at once? All the bright or all the dark the stark dark hair and the pale face pale arms pale … More Inkwell Reflections for Miss Dickinson
Where is the worth in waiting? I have been locked in stasis, hungry for change (as I’ve come to define waiting), but cannot find all that much to value there. Be present. Instead of expelling your desire waiting for summer, embrace winter. Summer will come regardless. Don’t just give up on what you can accomplish … More Laughter Saves Lives
You lay down, out of doors, your back on a grassy bed. You are surrounded by tall trees. You have your eyes open, aimed skyward. No one is around. You wait for it. You listen. Before long, you become aware of a warm, static humming originating from the recess of your mind. Concentrating on the … More An Overcrowded Consciousness
When you take a picture, be aware of what it leaves. In the years before taking a picture was as simple as pulling a thin, rectangular device out of your pocket and tapping a certain spot on its glass, people would buy these little plastic cylinders that housed this stuff called film. Those canisters were … More Undeveloped Film
Seize each breath with the satisfaction of knowing that newness is around each and every bend in the day. Pull the air in deeply. Expel it in due rhythm. Attune yourself to the lyrics of the song you’ve never listened to close enough to realize how precisely they describe your current situation. Imprint to your … More Perpetual Discovery
