You Never Know

You Never Know

A before shot followed by
another before shot followed by

more and more, all befores, no after
to speak of because the minute

we place the next picture down,
boom, another change, more light

on the brow and more shade under
the cheekbones, more oily sheen

of wild delight in the eye.
Whole stack of photographs, you look

happy in this photo, but in another,
I think a buzzard is perched

on your heart. Before, before,
surely there will be an after

but why am I looking for it
with my hands all full of camera.

House Hunters International

House Hunters International

Such kerfuffle in arranging
where to live,

clusters of rooms
sought and sold,

the sense that you will know
what you are looking for

when you see it,
that space will speak to you.

The good news:
you can’t get it wrong.

Your future does not depend
on the percentage

of Hacienda-style design
slithering within

the house’s veins
and along the arched doorways.

The world is your house.
Well, the world is your apartment.

Bon Voyage

Bon Voyage

We were waiting for a boat that was never a boat.
Waiting is a kind of journey.

We waited and looked. A gull became a boat.
Wind in our own hair

sounded like a sail accepting the air in order
to move. On the morning

that we found a broken sand dollar, the oldest
person in the village said,

The boat will be here soon. I felt relieved that
we weren’t waiting for

a train, it would have been worse, silent railroad
tracks, leaves instead of water

in the harbor. One time, I tried to shout out, It’s
a kite, not a boat! This whole time

it’s been a kite! By then my voice had dispersed,
it was all I could do to wave.

Bookmarks List/Bedside Table

Currently reading and enjoying...

Crapalachia: A Biography of a Place, by Scott McClanahan (published by Two Dollar Radio, a Columbus-based press!). Boy oh boy oh boy....this is some gorgeous, demented writing (my favorite combination). I recommend this book SO MUCH. I meant to read just a few chapters to start with, but I ended up reading the whole thing in one sitting.

One of my favorite passages:

“I felt darkness because I had been deep in the hollers, and I knew glory because I had stood on top of the beautiful mountaintops. More mountaintops, please. More mountaintops.

This is a lie I was told as a child, but it’s still true. The New River is one of the only two rivers that flows directly north. The other one is a river called the Nile. Those rivers are inside of me. I have a river inside my heart. You have a river inside your heart. There are diamonds inside of both of us. We are all flowing North.”

“Lost at Sea,” by Casey N. Cep, an essay on the trope of the shipwreck.

This essay, “Smells Like Words,” by Rebecca Steinitz (at The Millions), on anosmia (lacking the sense of smell). Fascinating!


And you? What are you reading? What should I be reading?

Tour of the House Falling Down Around Us

Tour of the House Falling Down Around Us

Come with me, come inside,
half of the rafters have fallen

but on the plus side, that means
the roof does well under pressure,

or that the rafters that remain
were the strongest and most

loyal. Window there, window
with no glass over here, but

still very much a window, maybe
even more a window now.

The chandeliers leak crystals
and the grass is coming up here

in one corner. But you can unzip
your hazmat suit, I want you

to be comfortable while walking
through this wreck. Every minute

it gets worse, but we can live out
our remaining days here. All things

fail, there is no permanence in any
shard of our universe, it doesn’t have

to be hard for us. I still see at least
three walls here, dear, I’m rounding

up, and even after every splinter
has rotted away into the bellies

of earthworms which will also
be obliterated by the next asteroid,

there will be the memory of a
house exploded amongst the stars.