Monthly Archives: December 2011

the corkscrew broke, the wine splashed and stained the wall, the glass shattered on the floor. the sunset burned in otherworldly hues never seen before. i found 50 euros on the sidewalk and surreptitiously stuffed them in my pocket. i … Continue reading →

confession: every city in europe that is not paris makes me long for paris. i arrive in paris on saturday. my best friend will meet me there, squeeze me for hours, do the hokey pokey with me, and kiss me … Continue reading →

i am in madrid again, to redeem the first time i came here 19 years ago. i chose madrid as my first stop on my first trip to europe because i was fluent in spanish and i wanted to see el … Continue reading →

anamnesia: the act of remembering what the soul already knows. this year i’ve lost my center, emotional security, trust in myself and my vows, my wife, her two little boys that i considered my own, my verve, my steadfast calm … Continue reading →

confession: i was upset, extremely upset. when i tried to discuss my feelings, he couldn’t hear them. i became more upset. i left because i didn’t want to fight. i stopped at the korean grocery to buy my favorite sushi … Continue reading →

i’ve forgotten how to write something i want to read. i fill pages and burn them. flames engulf the honest ugly lies, because i can not see the truth in this darkness. my writing is colored gray, smoke-scented, and dusted … Continue reading →

confession: in my perception of the world, florida is a different country, cuban coffee is a hard-core drug, screen-covered pool enclosures are brilliant, hurricanes can’t touch live oaks with drapes of spanish moss because live oaks are the strongest, oldest, … Continue reading →

i’m waiting. i’m waiting for my mood to shift. i’m waiting for the excedrin to ease the headache. i’m waiting for the muscle cream to relax my neck and shoulders. i’m waiting for my swollen-from-too-much-crying eyelids to open wider. i’m … Continue reading →

confession: the days knuckle-drag by whether i do anything productive or not. confession: i’d like to be a professional love letter writer. confession: there aren’t enough kleenexes to hold the snot flow from my nose this week. i resort to … Continue reading →

years ago when i was young (am i still young? i think so. age is relative. youthfulness is a state of mind…until, according to my mother, your arthritis acts up, and then you feel old overnight), i read somewhere that … Continue reading →