If you write for everybody you write for no one, so this will be for you.
Four days ago
I set my alarm for 6:30am
because I knew that sunrise would happen
at 6:46am, and
I decided that I would like
to watch it curl its fingers
over the edge of the mountains.
It had been a while.
When my alarm went off,
I hit snooze (the way you do) —
the way I used to hang up on my shift...
It is 8:19pm. I am sitting at my desk
beneath the west-facing window.
There is not enough sunlight in this house,
so I take advantage of afternoons now that,
after six years in a cave,
I cut my standing desk —
made of 12x8s in Bodo’s workshop
four years before a blood clot cut him down...
Gawa stands with her hands on her hips,
clubbed thumbs facing forward,
the same direction as her daydream,
projecting out through canted bay windows,
re-fertilizing boppa's sod-plugged front lawn
in her film-reel (close both eyes,
see with the other one),
like they did when they bought the place.
on the corner of 6th and Congress, in Austin, Texas.
There used to be a bench (on the 6th side —
maybe it is still there)
an eight-minute walk from the Colorado River,
flowing beneath a bat colony
whose residents love to show off
in the evenings.
I was a college dropout
with a sewing kit in...
I’ve never practiced Lent before. This year, I wanted to.
I’ve always thought about it on the day of (or the day after) and then decided that I was too late.
I’ve been in the wilderness lately — in books, and in practice.
My friend Doug Peterson told me...