Paul Bunyan Day

Paul Bunyan statue in Bangor, Maine. (Wikipedia) It’s that special day in June again. No, not that solstice thing. No, forget graduation. No, not the wedding thing. It’s Paul Bunyan Day! A day to celebrate an absolute idiot who blundered through the north woods, wearing plaid flannel, leading a cow named Babe, and wielding an… Continue reading Paul Bunyan Day

A Love Story for Bloomsday

Thomas Bloom was a professor. Business. He was not remarkable looking, talking, feeling, or thinking. The only remarkableness about Tom was an enormous lack of remarkableness. Bored freshmen amused themselves by pretending this apparent unremarkability constituted a cover for a secret identity of intrigue. Only for amusement. Could they have entered his mind, they would… Continue reading A Love Story for Bloomsday

Arroyo Strawberries: Winifred Mumbles

A Full Moon Tale for the Strawberry Moon There’s a layer of ash visible high in the walls of the arroyo. It lenses in and out, thickening and thinning, breaking into eerie grey smiles in the upper bank face. It is not old. Bright plastic riddles the layers underneath this ash like malignant confetti and… Continue reading Arroyo Strawberries: Winifred Mumbles

Immolation

They came for me as I was grinding the last of the roasted spelt. My sisters stood by with downcast eyes. I did not know who of them believed in my innocence. I found that I was troubled by this. I would go to my death willingly, but I was unwilling to let the ravenous… Continue reading Immolation

caldera summer sunrise

Sunrise over the Cerro Pelado Fire, Jemez Caldera, New Mexico opening day’s eye pierces dawn shredding fragile cloud with sun daggers rising light enlivening early lizards on red rocks warming creosote bush scent and following the dipping dance of the hummingbird salt cedars stand sentinel through the drought in spectral rivers of sand where the… Continue reading caldera summer sunrise

coming through wisdom

Born Again (Nacer de Nuevo) by Remedios Varo (1960) she is breaching reaching through rent flesh for hearth sense brushing past grasping cilia and bleached branches deserting the void-dark garden of ghosts coming into the clotted intimacy of small spaces penetrating deep the root-riddled walls of womanhood she is suffused with maiden’s hopeful lust one… Continue reading coming through wisdom

The Man in the Moon

I closed the shop early. No point to staying open in this storm. If anyone were foolhardy enough to venture out, I’d not want to sell books that would likely only get ruined on the walk back home. But there were no people, nobody dashing from one shop to the next, nobody walking the dog… Continue reading The Man in the Moon