American Sons


Instead of sobbing,
we bite down,
shove down, hold
the fear down,

we drag the pain
down, we're
silent;

our daddies
love us. Read full post »

I love being alone. I can do isolation in a wall-to-wall crowd. I am a dissociation master. Lara knows this. She keeps me grounded. She reminds me to change my clothes. She reminds me to wash my hands and take my medication. Sometimes she is like my mother,… Read full post »

I saw a man hit his son in the supermarket today. The son was being childish -- he was seven or eight -- the father got frustrated and struck his arm. The child was too shocked to cry. He clutched his arm and dropped the item that had inspired his… Read full post »

Bodhi has the run of the apartment. I won’t have it any other way. I have rearranged my possessions to keep him safe from danger. Things should always take a back seat to creature needs. At least that’s what I think. I will not stifle his curious nature, even when it… Read full post »

Extremely Incredibly Close

for Jonathan Safran Foer

Word after words after
syllables gathered 

to refer to more
words for

the meaning, the e-
motions,

the trauma,
are always

already always
already

always already… Read full post »

You meet a woman or a man.  He or she seems nice.  You talk.  You get together.  It doesn’t work out, so you move on.  Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it?

Well what do you do when that person refuses to go away?  What do you do if she—in my case—con… Read full post »

Charlie went to the store for garbage bags. 

The second he entered the store, he remembered the drain was clogged in the bathroom. Liquid plumber, he thought. I need liquid plumber...and a plunger!

But Shop Rite had no plunger, so he went to The Home Depot. He got Draino. He got a… Read full post »

I want to talk about pain without clichés.  I want to share my stories without a retreat  into platitudes. I want my words to feel empathetic.  I want my language to vibrate with compassion.  I want my reader to feel my syntax, my rhythm, my transitions from the surface to… Read full post »

          I have read my share of style manuals, those often easy-breezy guides to being a better writer.  Some are entertaining; others are simply hokey and riddled with ridiculous claims about the everydayness of the writing process. “Ju… Read full post »

Q: What do you think makes being a State Trooper more challenging in Alaska?

A: The long stretches of day light, when you can see Russia from your house, and the long stretches of darkness, when you can’t see Russia, but you know… Read full post »

UNDERFOOT

“When the trainee can become like the road outside his house—
he will have come close to the perfection of Zen.” --Rev. Master Jiyu-Kennett

My street, your black pavement
is scorched by  the noonday sun.

My two ton car’s balding tires
rest on your scarred bl/… Read full post »

The Buddhist composition instructor strives to develop pedagogical compassion and empathy. Compassion for what these struggling novice writers are enduring, and sincere empathy born from sharing in that struggle.

Yes, if one wants to teach writing, one must always be writing. Writing is a lifestyle./… Read full post »

Do I believe in God? Yes and no.

I don’t believe in an invisible man in the sky—a white beard and a robe, a kingdom on a cloud. That feels too childish for me. But do I believe there is nothing? 

I mean,… Read full post »

a freewrite meditation 

I know nothing technical about art.

But I know Francis Bacon makes me feel my own darkness, and Van Gogh makes me feel the freedom of chaotic joy.

Monet makes me feel peaceful, watched over by nature.

DaVinci makes me feel like a natural… Read full post »

Miscarriages

When my first sister was born dead
my mother stayed in bed for days—
her red eyes swollen shut,
her nose sore and crusted.
I was five.
My father was quiet the day after.
As he laced his work boots at the foot of the stairs,
he whispered to me about his beard
how it kept/… Read full post »

Poets and writers just sit around all day listening to language. Well, I know that I do. I have developed a method of visualization, or something like that. I can just somehow imagine how the words I hear would look on paper. I see the words appearing as they are to… Read full post »

Bodhi weighs about two pounds.  I weigh significantly more than two pounds.  Yet he just ran across the couch, leapt on my shoulder, hung on with all four sets of claws, and started playfully gnawing me.  The leap alone was brave, but the nibbling is pure trust. He trusts implicitly th… Read full post »

Dear Diary, 

Everyone thinks I’m crazy. I am a grown man. I’m very well educated. I’d totally date me. But I don’t want myself. I want the most perfect woman on the Earth. Yes, I want Jessica Biel. There, I said it.

This is usually the moment when my friends… Read full post »