It would make sense, these days, for me to be writing. I am so full of love, filled up with companionship, my larders stocked with beautiful things. Sleep is furiously regular, easy, and alarmingly restful- the dark of my shack, my ten hundred blankets, the long-bodied cellar spiders that leave their dim corners and dance … Continue reading why I can’t focus on anything
love
after you left
After you left, I fell back asleep. To the sound of rain on the metal roof, the infinite gray like predawn skies that stretch into the afternoon, the faded light through the green gauze curtains, the low window shaded in the raspberry canes. The whole world was singing me a lullaby- tap tap, pitter patter, … Continue reading after you left
after eating
After eating I feel fatigued (don’t ask why) and so instead of going to hip-hop dance class I lay in the hammock and try and soak up the beauty as much as I can, I am too tired to read my book about birds’ nests in winter. The sun is warm and damp and angled … Continue reading after eating
not a day
I have so many things to do, in this wet and golden month, warm month, swampy month. Set the course of all eternity! I am, somehow, responsible for all of it. I do not know how these things fall on me. The nostalgic planet! The incredible richness and variety of human friends! It makes me … Continue reading not a day
Anonymous father
Anonymous father let me be your prodigal son I need a bucket for my inspiration an alley milk-crate a paint bucket a vessel I need something to hold it if you are my training wheels, I can’t bicycle without you you are the unexpected warmth of ten hundred suns you are my sudden good fortune … Continue reading Anonymous father
CARROT QUINN 