Wednesday, December 01, 2021


 ...peace is some bizarre hamstring pull. peace is a notice for jury duty and the holidays looming. peace is knowing my mom is alone in our family home and grandma is dead and kerry is dead, and karin, and my dad. peace is being fifty years old, gray hairs overtaking the black ones, a fuller face, so many scars. peace is godtwins who turn ten this weekend and not quite being the cool auntie anymore. peace is bills and juggling side jobs and changing lightbulbs and mailing christmas presents on time. peace is not having a defined career, still choosing to rent instead of buy, a twelve year old car with a fresh dent in the door. peace is thinning hair and thickening belly, scuffed furniture and all of the spills. peace is laser tattoo removal, stepping in gum, traffic jams and saying goodbye, sometimes for now, sometimes forever. peace is knowing you behaved badly and doing something, or not doing something, about it. peace is a full laundry basket, a ruined recipe, blisters and finally saying no. peace is sunshine and rain, running out of gas, and ultimately all of us, running out of time...

Thursday, November 25, 2021

thanksgiving morning

...sitting at the starbucks reserve, mohawk street and sunset. a homeless guy walks by. he has a full shopping cart, a navy suitcase inside, a fully stuffed blue plastic garbage bag tied to something like a broom handle. he wears an olive-green stocking cap pulled down over his shoulder length blonde hair and a buttoned-up short sleeved shirt, a la paul frank. attractive, young. he looks up and makes eye contact with the tattooed girl in a tank top at the table next to me. i can tell she is watching him behind her heart shaped ombre sunglasses. he looks from her to me and i try to meet his gaze as i would anyone else’s, but i can’t, i look away. without the shopping cart he would be like any other hipster here in echo park. actually, no, he would be better looking. he would be received anywhere in la as attractive and young. that would be all. without the shopping cart. instead, i see now that he has parked his shopping cart just passed this starbucks patio and has put pillows down on the sidewalk. he sits on them, talking to himself, eating something out of white butcher paper, a deli sandwich it seems. finished with his meal, he moves his navy suitcase next to his pillows and stretches his legs out long over the hard case. he reaches up and pulls on a low palm frond and it bobs up and down like a pharaoh’s fan. 

nearby, a teeny tiny dog in a sweater is being hand fed bits of sous vide eggs, his owner trailing after him as he walks freely. she leans down to deliver each bite to his waiting lips. the dog quivers in his sweater, whether from the cool morning air or from overbreeding. he lifts his leg and pees on the patio...