Literary
Waste Little, Want Some
People Watching New Yorkers in Spring
When I left the house this evening, I didn’t plan on making my Friday night in Manhattan all about people watching. I’d hoped, rather, to be able to meet up with the latest girl that I’d been deluding myself about. But rather, in tune with the last few weeks of trying to see her, we never ended up together. In my head, I composed the perfect email to let her know we’re through, but delivery will wait until tomorrow morning (when I’m clear-headed). You lucky readers won’t get such a reprieve, but rather the unfiltered stream of consciousness that was my evening. Continue reading…
Google before you tweet…
How to Put an Animal Down
Things have changed. They’re no longer what they used to be.
An eager smile with nonjudgmental eyes.
Unflinching devotion and unconditional love.
It’s quite common, they say. Time can do that.
Everything that is so reliable.
Everything that’s safe.
Simply, plainly: Given enough of it,
time will take it all away.
But how do you know things cannot return to what they were.
The stability begins to falter, but you react with reassurance.
Shrug off the incidents with disbelief.
(Optimism is a good thing, you’re reminded)
But the defensive wounds begin to show.
And you know.
When it’s time, it will painfully come back to you.
Crawl across the aluminum table while life slips silently away.
To lay beside you and rest its head on your arm.
Struggle to find your face in darkness, if only to say,
It’s all right. Everything will be all right.
When it’s all over, time will have momentarily gotten its fill.
To leave you with nothing but scars on your hands and over your heart
and be better for it all.
New Original Crossword Puzzle
I just finished a new original crossword puzzle called “Good Eets! (PDF). It’s about a “Monday” in terms of the New York Times Difficulty Rating System (read: easy). I hope you like it. Comments are always welcome.
The Guardian v.3
Thanks to the amazing critique and imagination of Matt Bird (Betsy‘s Wünder-Husband), The Guardian is now in its third draft and looking pretty spiffy. Any and all feedback is greatly appreciated.
The Guardian
A screenplay about fate and relationships
The Guardian
Mallorca II
The bees meander sweetly, serpentine among the apple blossom,
filling their abdomans with pollen, the royal jelly.
I watch in wonder of their flight. One sting would sacrifice their lives.
They are the same as I. Propelled by nature, I am propelled by love.
My stinger is poised, my soul aloft, my life in peril. For if she recoils, I am lost.
My soul cannot survive the separation. I am a fool to think that I may soar again.
To live among the apple blossom, waiting for another chance to live.