I Dream of Airplanes

Most nights, I dream of airplanes. Last night, I dreamt of one flying low, narrowly missing my childhood home, ripping the neighbors’ houses in half. No one was hurt. No one was home to see their homes cleft by this errant machine. They would arrive home later, tired from work, to see their roofs torn…

Read More

That’s My Band. And We’re Fucking Awesome.

We played to a giant, empty room last night, where great pillars of wood swallowed up the sounds of four hands clapping. It’s not an easy thing, this music business, but you keep on doing it–watching the crowd thin out, telling yourself you’ll play for the love of it and sing for the heart of…

Read More

Paris, je t’aime

For ten days and nine nights we have wandered Paris streets, smelling cheese, pastries, piss, sausages, flowers, falafel; hearing French babies giggle with glee while their mothers wiped cream from their faces; scanning menus; stopping for wine while waiting for the rain to pass; searching out chocolate, and art, and music; drinking in afternoons and…

Read More

The Thong

I was 28 years old when I bought my first thong.  Thongs aren’t made for fat girls, said my brain to me, said commercials to my brain, said porn to my ex lovers. Thongs are made to rest between smooth, firm ass cheeks that fit in the palm of a man’s hand. Thongs are not made…

Read More

Things I Want to Tell You: A Public Service Announcement

I want to tell you why I’m not dieting anymore. I want to tell you, but I am afraid. I want to tell you, in joy, about the rolls that have come back to my arms, the measuring cups and spoons gathering dust in the drawer, the scale gathering dust in the linen closet–but I…

Read More

Notre Dame is burning

Once, man built mountainsof wood and stoneand glassto obscure the light of God from the people,and these mountains loomed, in gaping majesty,to remind us of our basic lack. But in the present, post apocalypse, God is here.And he sets upon our towers of tinder, engulfed in flame.Upon rooftops–Once out of reach of peasants,now out of…

Read More

something small, for Dan and all who loved him

It is April, and our friend is gone. We feel him in warm air and dewy breezes. We hear his booming laugh in the first rumbles of thunder. Yesterday, we remembered him. I silently mouthed the mourner’s kaddish, and the smell of warm soil drifted in through open doors. I sang him to the rafters…

Read More

“But first, coffee”

I made a sign for the kitchen today. I made a sign because my therapist says I should try to find peace, and peace is slippery and elusive. I’m always chasing it around, but I just can’t catch it. So I woke up today, and I said, “My goal is peace,” and I made a…

Read More