Rain slants across the valley. The sky black as a valley floor, weighty as valley walls...
I’m developing a kink for Thin old men in grey cardigans Who lean on country fences And watch the wind. Not the gaunt of ill mind or waning body. Not the narrow of a too-small mouth and a too-big religion. But the shape of someone easily distracted By words, or birds, or maps, or pebbles.… Continue reading Kinked in broad daylight
Finding Under Difficult Circumstances by Pam Swanborough By the time you read this anything might have happened. She might have fallen in love by the time you read this. By the time you read this she might be dead. For that’s just how it works. Don’t feel bad for reading. It’s just how things work.… Continue reading Finding Under Difficult Circumstances
This building is being waterboarded. I live inside the sound of water, falling down a dozen long galvanized throats as it sheds off a roof the size of two tennis courts. Giggles, sighs, shouts of rain or coughs of hail that can last for hours. The sound is variously deafening, overwhelming, comforting: a maelstrom, a… Continue reading Rain