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Things you can’t control—love, weather, grace, time. My favorite cliché is race against time. Like an undertow, her phone sucks my teen daughter into YouTube, Snapchat, FaceTime. Our elm’s branches brought the power lines down. In darkness, distortion of sound, space, time. Time may change me—Bowie’s cranked-up voice drifts from a passing car—but you can’t trace time. She let her hair go silver, … Continue Reading ››
In Madagascar, the vanilla smells of old books traded across the street from the bar that drank my college rent. Volatile compounds hide in so many things that mean home—a spoon of extract sinking into eggs and sugar, almonds, an old letter steamed open that says I am waiting for you; come back. And another that says, I am gone.
Two heartbreaks ago you said, “no trash heaps, no more” but the shopping mall’s much better in the afternoons when everyone else is working, shoveling organs from the left pile to the right. “All’s fair sale,” said Mr. Mayor. The dogs followed behind close enough to trip on his trousers. “Sale today,” he said. “Buying today,” said the dogs. “I’m here to buy a new … Continue Reading ››