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Over a Long Time Ago
From a cabin and a photograph of her I deduce the meaning of used guitar strings; the skeleton under my skin. Whatever kind of snow that falls, it falls all night. As if a goodbye could be a...
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Third Movement
I struggle with the color grey and cities at night. The way a candle can’t quite fill a room with light; and these cars in the rain, they are not exactly friends. I struggle because if this was love...
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Fun. Review: Vic Theatre 4.14.12
Nate Ruess, the lead vocalist of Fun., high jumped his way onto the stage Saturday night at the Vic in Chicago wearing a shirt with his own band’s name branded against his chest. The propulsive...
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Poem for K
Your name whispers secrecy. It flat lines in linen gowns then spits back to life like a birthday candle. The sound of your name is like the growl of an avalanche in the distance. Like snow that blows...
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Who is Brian Sendrowitz?
On the 2007 album “The Great Big Sea,” Brian Sendrowitz sings the opening line: “I’m drifting through my days / through a carnival of fire / I’m trying to find my way.” In 2007 this lyric defined my...
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Autumn is Guaranteed Loneliness
By September I had fucked things up. It seemed to happen almost all at once The connections that had felt meaningful broke like guitar strings. The sound of it filled my apartment until there was no...
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Untitled, Favorite Memory
Dissect the doubt with two hands and use a dirty scalpel. Parting the skin of twentysomethings. A heart put on ice. Platelets squint like sunning pumpkins. A pair of lips with too many interesting...
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Hometown
I come back to you, ever-aging hometown. Not knowing what to do. Not quite erased – your mouth from my outside. I pull sunlight with me like pages ripped from a novel. I take the smell of the morning...
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Incremental Assisted Suicide
Give to me the God who knows the dreams I had as a child. Welcome his royalty into the empire He thwarted. Paint His finger almost touching my own, when we both change our minds. Together we will...
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No One has Perfected the Art of Saying Goodbye
We are not hell. But we are eating slowly. Deciding between heavy mountains or endless ocean. We choose pure refugee nihilism and move like gray radio music in and out of these bedrooms. Leave clothes...
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We Vaguely Resembled Electricity for a Moment There
No amount of imagination can provide an answer. Why are we built to bleed? Anxious for how the knife will twist still making long distance road trips, for example; or at least sharing secrets when we...
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The Before and After of Ordinary People
The body is a battle scratched in pencil with temporary borders. Here in the details, I have seen you coming and going. Kicking up dust in my heart. Translating the meat of some glorified road kill...
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A Warning against Apathy of Any Kind
Our days ignite like the breath of March. Like matchsticks or like the growling of mountain avalanches. All things collapse. We are built to crumble like ash, so we can feed the fire. We are fuel but...
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The Questions that Make it Interesting
New short story written with Jess Hagemann. Story inspired by the art of Boneface. Read story via PDF: The Questions that Make it Interesting Filed under: collaborative work
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Autumn Nights
Autumn nights like candle wax That sticky feeling in your heart That crunch of coffee and the fog in the morning. You’re almost sure she has her mother’s eyes and the body of a fresh water lake. Back...
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The Story Won’t Do What You Want it to Do
9:01am in October and my dictionary is empty. quiet like a tree that has given up on all its autumn leaves. a canvas stripped of its paint. friends, most of life is decoration. this much I’ve realized:...
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2013 Music Review
Like all art. Music flourishes and suffers from an audience that knows not what to do with it. Is enjoying music enough? If not, then should we analyze it? Should music be compared to other music and...
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Favorite Songs Found in 2013
Humiliation by The National: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rn9W0LfGdtE The lyrics of this song paint a canvas of dark nights and dinner parties. The humiliation of losing love. Of not being enough. It...
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Dying but Never Dead
One shape becomes another. We are who we are. But who we are isn’t permanent. The color of the sunset is not to be mistaken with the color of the sunrise. We don’t switch the ending with the beginning....
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Music Journal: “Seasons” by Future Islands
Most of my life has been a personal sort of arithmetic. A type of mathematics designed for a person who prefers imaginary numbers over integers. Consequently, I add postcards to the dashboard of my car...
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