Monthly Archives: November 2011

I’m waiting fo…

I’m waiting for something, bumping into strange reminders  and writing for Happy Meals.     They are going out to eat, then we are doing something else.  She bites into her burger and slides her finger across the screen of … Continue reading

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On a Sunday

I’m falling in love with the sound that the fan makes in the doorway. What kind of woman am I? The shoes fit, the cobbler bangs nails through leather into the four and a half inch heel. If it breaks … Continue reading

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Lower East Side on a Saturday Evening

Most beautiful creature, red pen in hand, tiny cursive bleeding around margins. She drinks her orange spiced tea with cream and sugar. When the printer spits out her outline and she realizes she hasn’t numbered her pages, she sits on … Continue reading

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we picked the meat off of bones

After baking the yams and stuffing the mushrooms, sliding tables outside together and dumping wet ash from the fire pit into the garden, between searing gizzards with garlic for gravy, and stopping to put on mascara, there were knocks at … Continue reading

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Thanksgiving

It is just after nine. Sun splashed on faded brick fire escape and climbing Ivy of the building beyond our backyard. I’m still in bed. My clothes are on the floor, phone completely unusable on my night table. Today is … Continue reading

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Turning into Thanks

Tell me there is a better way to spend a day, than in prayer in the East Village, than in walking to Grey Dog with Benjamin, and watching Alec Baldwin go inside. Is there a better way to spend breakfast … Continue reading

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Statement of Purpose

This is the time to work on my statement of purpose. I am told it will be the hardest thing I ever write. That’s not crippling, really. It’s is 7:14 a.m. My sweater is laid over the couch near the … Continue reading

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Jackson Sunday Morning

Miriam and I wake up to Man in the Mirror While we are dancing and cleaning, the roommates, one by one come in and shake their heads. Shhh they say, it’s Sunday, We never get to sleep. Miriam and I … Continue reading

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Fiction Workshop with Mirsky

English is elastic. political correctness stretches the band until it can’t hold pens together. witchcraft should be capitalized? ask Chicago. the coffee traveler spills. brown paper towels wrinkle and bubble on the wet linoleum. how strange language is. does it … Continue reading

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Forecast

Should I ride today? I put my bike under the tarp last night mud splattered coat near the laundry but who can ever tell if it will rain, and if that rain will be too much to ride through? It … Continue reading

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