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There was that old map of San Francisco that hung on the wall of our house down the coast, a cheap print that I’d lose myself in over cereal and coffee. I’d see in its unlikely green tufts of willow … Continue reading
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(Originally published March 2016 in Non Disclosure) By the time we’re over North Dakota, gas flares flickering like bonfires below, nearly everyone on this San Francisco-to-Boston red-eye is asleep. I should be sleeping too, but instead I open a creased copy … Continue reading
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You once asked me which version of myself I’d most like to interview & I laughed, thinking of myself sitting next to myself on some park bench, the hum of conflicting realities in the background & us — me & … Continue reading
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We walk the map, the contour lines & trails woven like partial solutions to puzzle of brush and wizened stone. Water over rock face carries us upward, chests racing to consume the sky, feet alert to palimpsest of trail. We … Continue reading
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The morning’s limp & pallid & feels like it’s been doing this thing for years. Practical business-travel tip #1: Avoid weather metaphors if possible. If it were a man, it’d be the kind of guy my dad worked with, over … Continue reading
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Just as from “You shall not boil a kid in its mother’s milk,” They made the many laws of kashrut, But the kid is forgotten, the milk is forgotten, and the mother is forgotten, So from “I love you” We … Continue reading
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It’s my 25th birthday & I’m out for a run along the beach of Half Moon Bay, California. Evening’s descended, the sky still hungover from the afternoon rain, the waves lumbering to their own indecipherable meter. My leg strikes the … Continue reading
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This gallery contains 1 photo.
The conversation at the end of conversation is a form of poetry. Con-verse-ation: Poetry spoken in company. I’m relieved to find poetry here, in part because I’m never sure when or where it exists elsewhere. How often do we find … Continue reading
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Begin in a vacuum. Or: Approximate to the wasteland six miles below you: Alaskan oceans, a picket of waterlogged air, some volcanic landmass, dark and nameless. Or, barring that: Approximate to where you are, an airplane cabin in transpacific flight … Continue reading
A Lot Like You 