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August 14, 2018
The coffee from yesterday warmed up and left in the microwave, the late-December sky two hours before the sun comes up outside of smudgy windows. Sitting. The desk. The bed. The bed the desk. It’s funny the things we hold on to, for no particular reason, or no good reason.
July 31, 2018
Perhaps we should begin in extreme heat
              or intemperate ice,                  in salt solutions,   
              in drastic acid or radical alkaline,         in heavy metals
or in toxic waste—                    wherever life seems improbable
July 24, 2018
First, an unsteady tree of clothing inside the door: the coat rack, heaped with jackets, scarfs and furs, most torn, buttons missing, some stained, all rarely worn as few ever go out—for what is outside the house but another house?
July 17, 2018
One, two days
And the mouth
Goes back on its word.
July 10, 2018
Like me when I was a child, Huck Finn hates Sundays. And sunshine. One day, “Sunday-like, and hot and sunshiny,” Huck explains,
June 26, 2018
The purpose of the camping trip was to get away from the house and our ordinary routine, we explained to the boy, knowing he would resist if we said the real purpose was to learn more about his new school and how the other kids were treating him, specifically a bully named “Chuck.”
June 19, 2018
I wrote this letter to explain my withdrawing myself from school

In school, the brief schooling I attended, the benefits of water were endlessly extolled. (Eckhart Tolle, mindfulness, a tripart time, a mermaid time, a time that just was not going to work for the mountains.)
June 12, 2018
A Selected Text from Conjunctions:70, Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
Peaches redden on branches; in the dark,
I drop the irrigation gate—each month

a woman crosses Havana Bay and, looking

at the open water, reclaims her mother—
June 5, 2018
A Selected Text from Conjunctions:70, Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
The great Gothic cathedrals, with their arches, ribs, and vaults, were modeled after trees in the forest, the way trees reach up and their branches intertwine.
May 29, 2018
A Selected Text from Conjunctions:70, Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
“Use the Crown Club Card
to see Justice League,”

he, she, it says.
May 22, 2018
A Selected Text from Conjunctions:70, Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
Take him, Alma wrote almost ten years ago, when she was still a senior in high school and her English teacher, Mr. Poland, tried to teach her and her retrograde classmates how to craft compelling opening sentences for their college admissions essays
May 15, 2018
A Selected Text from Conjunctions:70, Sanctuary: The Preservation Issue
Punishment is a poor substitute for justice. When, after all, does punishment end? And what is punishment meant to do?
May 8, 2018
You still eat roots the way each footstep
put together this hillside
as if it was once a pond and slowly

dried for the afternoon–a simple life
May 4, 2018
What an honor it is to welcome Richard Powers back to Bard College this afternoon after over a decade since he last read in the Innovative Contemporary Fiction Reading series.
May 1, 2018
This is one, hoping to exist. This is one, holding out against zero: its reign of absence, its absolute winter.

Down for the count, which needs or does not need our factories of charge.
April 24, 2018
One is haunted. Haunted, one must proceed nonetheless with the courtesy of a host. One assumes the ghost is lost and needs to be helped on its way. One sees things others do not see. Or rather, one sees things that others cannot see.
April 17, 2018
There was a socket in the wall my mother told me not to touch. The wire innards of the plug spilled out of the unguarded hole. The wires looked like black spaghetti.
April 10, 2018
“And you say they’ve been here how long?”

     “We don’t know exactly. Our estimate is a month, approximately. It’s difficult to be sure, we don’t keep tabs on our employees, so it could well be longer, a month and a few days, perhaps.”
April 3, 2018
Cold hole in my right pant
through which
                        grass’s eyelash brushes my calf,
                                                                
flirty infinite    
March 27, 2018
Be the brown bear and the honeybee,
the finch and the squirrel

both too picky for this birdseed.
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