So I guess the old question arises...  where DID summer go? How am I sitting here in my stepfamilie's dining room in Portland, Maine? Why am I not working a nine hour shift at Vickies, running down South Prospect street and doing pilates every night? What? I dislocated my knee and tore my patella tendon? (sorry Marth). What? Steve has stage four ( Read more... )

The grass in the backyard needs to be cut. He used to mow it every week. Now the hose just lies there, semi-unraveled, wild and stringy like a floppy bone.

I try to picture what a bone marrow transplant looks like in my head. Do they take out all the poisoned marrow first? I picture the bone de-flating-- a popped balloon. It's a red garden hose ( Read more... )

I have always been a control freak. But lately I've been realizing that strength isn't always feeling in control, but accepting that you just can't control things that happen in your life somtimes and accepting this fact with grace. Bad things happen. There are always going to be rough patches. But depression is thinking that the past is happening ( Read more... )

Amy's boyfriend died yesterday in an avalanche while he was skiing. Everyone is hysterical right now. He grew up in Shelburne so a ton of my friends knew him and were close with him. He was her first everything.

RIP Tyler.

What the hell.

Christmas Eve with the Evangelical Family

I awoke late at night

with my four-year-old cousins' teeth in my forearm,

because, he claimed, his crying wouldn't rouse me.

When I asked what caused those whale tears he said:

The Apocalypse!

What?

The moon is falling.

He pulled back the curtains to show me his fear;

the culprit was nothing more than wind-swept ( Read more... )

When my four impacted wisdom teeth were liberated from my jawbone two years ago, I wanted numbness-- I wanted Al Gore's global warming to send a glacier into my backyard so that I could rub my face against its perfect freezingness and hold ice flakes in my mouth like cereal. After three days I realized I had begun to miss not the flavor, but the ( Read more... )

I would totally fuck Wyclef Jean. He has je nais se quoi out the wazoo. Who here agrees with me about his foxiness? He's almost as irresistable as the young Tom Brokaw, except I don't think Mr. Brokaw ever rapped copiously about women who choose prostitution and stripping as a means of making ends meet.

Haven't you noticed that? Perfect Gentleman ( ( Read more... )

 It's been so good to be home. Overall, this semester has been very satisfying-- I love living with Amanda and things with my friends are pretty amazing all things considered. It's funny that Amanda and I were the ones that got "fucked over" and ended up with the most peaceful living arrangement. Karma!

Classes have been decent. I'm so sad I couldn' ( Read more... )

this was one of the hardest poems i've ever had to write. i think it speaks for itself...

Ghosts bumped into my sandcastle at the beach once.

They weren't gossamer like a bridal veil--

they were four hollow crabs

fine as origami

gargled up in a wave's full lip.

When Aaron died

they burned his body

and our fingers released him

like the final sigh in a ( Read more... )

The subjects for this had to be church

Convert

For many years I didn't know much about God;

my only exposure to Jeremiah was the bullfrog,

not the prophet.

But on a Saturday morning walk back to my apartment,

my heel slipped

and I found myself eye-level

with a fallen robin's nest.

I held three compact oceans with little brown speckles

in hands that ( Read more... )