Saturday, May 25, 2013


When you’re standing on the subway platform at 5:47 in the morning, surrounded by other people in numbers and neon shirts, the train comes in on the tracks across from yours. Through the windows, you see people with places to go, even this early on a Saturday, in clothing that covers all of their limbs. Reading newspapers. Taking naps. Maybe still drunk. Maybe wishing to be drunk.

You’re not nervous. Not yet. The train rolls past, still a novelty to you, country girl, and as the sparks strike against the track and the steady blue bleats against the tiled walls, you’re not sure which one is the lightning and which one is the thunder.

Friday, May 24, 2013

conquering the moon

My mind feels untethered today save one or two final strands still connected to earth. If you cut me loose, you’d find me drifting over the surface. Close enough to brush, but not close enough to keep me.

I wonder if I should make as many sweeping decisions as possible today. Take that Sisyphean boulder and knock it right off of the edge of eternity. See what happens next.