What if I wrote a real blog, not this creature hovering in the air, acting like a blog. What is Tin Hats anyway? My blog title would be “Voodoo on Less Than $1,000 a Month”. It might go like this: Sorry I haven’t posted in a while. Things have been pretty crazy around here. My […]
Y’know babe, sometimesI feel like I got a story to tell,but I was born with my lips sealedand my hands tied andmy face behind a veil. D’you ever feel that way sometimes?Let me see your hands,are they sliced up like mine? Tied by the tender wrists to a zip line-yeah the cord is long, it’s […]
“Expect some turbulence,” the pilot announced as the plane drifted over the snow topped peaks and began to glide through the canyon. On her lap she held a copy of the SF Chronicle. A man and woman, only in their twenties, had been attacked by an intruder to their rooftop flat. Both were bound and […]
My words look like half-burnt cake candles tossed into the alley, the cats ready to lick the bit of frosting, but the rain begins and takes the space, flattening ears and closing doors Not a great beginning for a poem about suffering and despair, although the cats might have something to say, how they were […]
As I write there is a dirty sheet being placed over the body of a child. She is no more. What shall we do? She was playing in the sand, even though her family had told her to stay inside. A piece of shrapnel killed her. It left only an inch gash in her chest, […]
Carol is dead and so are both Emmas and Renee too. I don’t write about the two Emmas or Renee much anymore. I used to when I could see them clearly, hear them, smell them, but now only Carol comes to me along the streets of Austin. The others are only ill-formed lumps in my […]
Cuttings from Duke Miller’s Epic Poem “Ingmar Bergman’s Old Weiner” Dear Jan, of course, I agree to be your developmental editor and as such I have a few preliminary comments on the text you sent via the white sheets of bay fog that moved through the city last year Please take my critique with an […]
The 19th century goes like this … He asks, why are you smiling She says, I’m not smiling Waiting, waiting … and the silence is more than misunderstanding … it’s lies upon lie, an expensive weaving for the rich, a paper flower for the poor Noise levels rise in the 20th century with two […]
Given to the rhythm of forgivenesswhen the blade hits andthey say that there was no way to predict this.If I was living in your armsone could say you delivered death’s kiss butin the end it’s all on me I held myself with limp wrists. Given to the nature of distortionin the cold pits,they say a […]
Miracles are a postponement of the inevitable, like ice cream in the sun The sun burns as he sits tapping his temples, a new human behavior, and his fingers are imported from a difficult birth, and he thinks of AA as he grounds barefoot, digging his toes into the dirt, and he can feel the […]
