hard pressed

On this day of rain and heft, I thought of this bike I saw on a run once, leaning against a tree, growing into its bark. Here now I lean into my desk, here it presses lines into my stomach. Here I press on in the rain, rust gathering at my hinges.

Q318 Songs

There is this lit journal that publishes writing about music which I want to submit to, but I just can't articulate exactly how much songs set my days, my intention. How do I describe the content I feel at the end of a day full of parenting and cleaning and trying, trying to write when... Continue Reading →

failure, but also, success.

I am teaching poetry workshops again, so last week I asked my students what they like to write about. "Failing," one girl said and I scribbled it down furiously, in both the ways I can mean that. We live in a society that focuses on the negative, on the ways we fail, on how we're... Continue Reading →

small good things

Here is a list of nice things people have done for me lately: After I had coffee with Margret, she insisted on giving me and Holden a tour of the remodeled Blair library where she also insisted on buying Holden some children books A colleague from a decade ago contacted me and told me single... Continue Reading →

Holden’s fuzz

On an airplane, Thursday, 8/23/18: The clouds, from above, look like Holden's fuzz. From up here, I can see how they clump and pull away and I think, there must be a poem in this. Maybe it's in how Holden lies on the couch pulling fuzz apart. Maybe it's in how he sits up and... Continue Reading →

the long game

I wish there was a machine that could accurately measure sadness, and display it in numbers that you could record. And it would be great if that machine could fit in the palm of your hand. I think of this every time I measure the air in my tires. ~"Men Without Women" by Haruki Murakami... Continue Reading →

these days

I have lived on my own for nine months, but these days are my first when I'm not in school. For nine months, I have taken care of my children during the weekdays, during half of the nights, and I have read and I've written. I've thought only sporadically about my future. In School allowed... Continue Reading →

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