Monthly Archives: March 2010
Junior Agent
My father is a chaplain for the FBI. It’s a fairly sweet gig. He goes down to the local field office a few times a month, and chats with the agents. And once a year, he flies to Quantico, to hang out with the cadets,… Read more
Insomniac
Does the cat prowl across the bed because I’m stirring? Or am I stirring because he prowls?
I had a pair of canvas Nikes with a blue swirl when I was in first grade. I loved those sneakers. And scissored holes into mine when Duncan got some with a red swirl.… Read more
Confidante
Please don’t tell me secrets. Please. I can’t keep gifts hidden until birthdays. I want to fess everything to everyone all the time. ”Wait until you see what I got you! You’re gonna love it. Here, want to open it now?”
I’ll tell you the… Read more
Posted in Writing
Tagged friends, gift, half-formed, love, secret, story, unscrupulous, worlds
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Family remodel
I think of Solomon declaring the baby should be sliced in half. I think of nannies, and step-mothers. I think of tug-a-war. Where do women learn to share children? Where do we work out the responsibilities, and the roles?
I think of Woody Allen’s infamous… Read more
The Modern Relationship
We’re in a coffee shop, steam hissing, dishes hauled, orders called. The dude behind us dispenses advice like a pharmacist. You can almost hear the milligrams.
Our laptops touch. We’re plugged in. To the wall, to the internet, to this third cup of coffee.
And… Read more
Communal washing
Our father was easier to define. For one, he wore a uniform, with silver crosses on the shoulders, and the hat. God’s man. Got it. He shot hoops with us; played soccer. Athlete, check. He’d sit at the piano, pull out the trumpet. Musician, check. … Read more
Ringed
So, here’s a lyric-in-progress I’m working on for a performance at Olive It Cafe at the end of the month. To be played, and sung, jauntily.
I will be your blushing bride
I’ll hold up my side
I’ll get it wrong, maybe I’ll… Read more
Rondo
Vulnerability. It comes down to this nearly every time. How vulnerable must we be? Women on slabs. Women in stirrups. Women with their arms stretched wide. This. I offer this to you.
Not to be sacrificed. Neither martyred nor purified.
The story of your past,… Read more
Posted in Writing
Tagged brokenness, daily, hum, kid, lesbian, love, proof, refrain, relationships, slabs, stirrups, vulnerability, women
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A Single Man
I saw this film last evening, and thought, nearly the entire time, of Walt Whitman. Colin Firth is marvelous, and the period details remarkable — the young men are odes, there’s a moment straight from Breathless that’s perfection. This morning I read a review from… Read more