30 July 2007

28 July 2007

Life Story XXI

A waiting period, a transition, steeping.

27 July 2007

Life Story XIX

Pen pal letter lines saving time.

Life Story XVIII

Inside-joke car ride sing-alongs.

26 July 2007

lunch break warning



Life Story XVII

A typewriter heartbeat gifted to me.

Life Story XVI

Mountain top macaroni & cheese escape.

25 July 2007

Life Story XV

Rock Island binding two into one.

Life Story XIV

February, a new winter, slow motion lapse.

24 July 2007

Life Story XIII

Not a painter, but a poet.

Life Story XII

Graduated college. Now what to do?

Life Story XI

Trains in looping circles, hands held.

19 July 2007

LifeStory X

Affinity for modernism & vanilla coke.

17 July 2007

Alfredo Impersonator

According to the local paper
the tides should have been high
& the sun should have been up &
I should have made contact
with those who make changes.

instead

it was the evening of the day
we went to her favorite
restaurant from last year &
their menu had completely changed;
once a seafood place
with a view,
now an almost Italian bistro
with marble & mirrors.

She had read that
persistence will bring rewards
& a stranger’s compassionate remark
would stimulate her sympathy for an underdog.

instead

we stormed out,
& ate a picnic
of peanut butter & jelly
on the beach
while waiting for our
horoscopes to come true.

16 July 2007

Life Story VII


A daisy, a trail, something repeating.

13 July 2007

Life Story V

Affinity for up past bed times.

12 July 2007

Life Story IV

A matchstick, a strawberry, something circling.

Life Story III

Noun & verb collector & organizer.

Life Story II

Remote control smile (batteries not included).

10 July 2007

200th post extravaganza

Remember when ?

Or when?

Or even that time when.

Yes, it has really been 200 posts.

Locations of visitors to this page

Six-Word Memoir

Found this site. Then I submitted.

Summer Oven Letter


Dear Nana,

The weather here, hot. Slow burning heat your
toaster oven door left open & set to full
blackness burning bagels, bread, tiny
imitation pizzas into dessicated cardboard
landscapes pockmarked & cratered, no hours of
clear water revival can revert post mark lost
stamp torn off, a pile of paper in your foyer
& puzzles tied with a twine string, just, stillness.
vacuumed silence aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa sliced & served
with a small plastic cup revealing your voyages to
Colonial Williamsburg, Bermuda, or Disneyland time-traveling
mementos documenting weather patterns in letters
How many squirrels did you see today?
Certainly more than me. I have 73 channels to
flip through compared to your fuzzy five
so time exploring the yard, the garage,
the basement, memories, weather, took precedent to
TV dinners fishamajigs & a sinking slow heat
seeping through storm doors vacuum packages &
your places for hiding money--plastic children's cups
I think--palmed bills warm from your hands,
I know you saw squirrels today.
........................................................ XOXO Chris

09 July 2007

i did not see jenny

i saw a man
cleaning out

the pond

brushing
the water

pure

dropping
the everyday
slop

a cigarette butt
a fast-food cup

to find
fish &
turtles

ecosystem eyes

honey suckle
vines

french toast
flowers
enveloping

a tree

drawing from
her water.

03 July 2007

W.E.B. Du Bois can you really stack books that high?

aaaa I am afraid of your elevator
with dings metering a breaking
building's heartbeat

its windows popping in pressure
its roots sinking in a
design that did not account

for the weight of words

squeezing bricks
from the tower walls

in an
architecture of tears