The dry season ended, all of a sudden, and the sky became dark and wet and the air turned cold and all the leaves fell. At first I was taken aback by all of this, because I hadn’t wanted it to happen. I was feeling like a victim of the seasons, like one of those … Continue reading chocolate covered bacon and the meaning of the wintertime
rain
Hermitism, youth, and the goddess of decomposition.
It is springtime, I have springtime insomnia. I become furiously excited and then, it rains, and I wilt, and my excitement turns to cold fear, and I lay in bed and pick apart my brain, wondering what I am doing wrong and how I can fix it. This afternoon, while standing over the sink in … Continue reading Hermitism, youth, and the goddess of decomposition.
torrential rainfall and the disputed kingdom Protista
It’s been raining torrentially all day- this morning we took the dogs to kelly point park, the superfund site where the metallic Columbia meets the sewage-filled Willamette, and big cold drops began to pelt us as soon as we stepped from the car. We walked along the path through the woods, throwing Emy’s ball before … Continue reading torrential rainfall and the disputed kingdom Protista
It doesn’t ever stop raining
Ever. It’s always been raining, and it will always rain. The ocean is broader and deeper than the depths of my imagination, and each day small bits of it rise up, roil through the air, and pound the edges of the continent. We are an extension of the ocean, we are the inner edges of … Continue reading It doesn’t ever stop raining
light bulbs, chihuahuas, and writing about myself
My new apartment is two square rooms, a yellow kitchen counter, and the hum of the fridge. It is the click-click of the baseboard heaters and the cold blue light of the stark-white walls. I have not hung artwork yet. I just moved yesterday from a one-room cottage with a woodstove to this land of … Continue reading light bulbs, chihuahuas, and writing about myself
water, dreams, cupcakes, the ocean floor
My dreams have been so magnificent lately. Picture this: It is the end of the world. The lowlands are filled with clear water. All you clothing is red. It’s warm, and someone is coming after you. You have to swim. You have to hide. You have to cross narrow trestles that glisten in the moonlight. … Continue reading water, dreams, cupcakes, the ocean floor
Look! I wrote something!
My chemistry homework makes an appearance, as does North Dakota. ----------------------------- S A D --------- It has gotten cold here, sometimes sometimes it is not cold, but the air is filled with water like someone is misting us like we are fragile plants that need misting It has gotten sometimes cold but dark dark, dark, … Continue reading Look! I wrote something!
I’m back
It is so strange to be back in the city. It is raining, I cannot ride my bicycle. The air is cold and grey- there is fruit out there, ripening, figs and blackberries, but I do not know how to find them. Last September it was not like this- last September there was long yellow … Continue reading I’m back
I WANT
I want to bust you out of the city. I want to steal a car and drive up I-5 as fast as I can go. A nice car, a solid box, a bubble-pod, a car that smells like vinyl, nothing of the forest, a euphoric comfort machine. Stolen. What better thing to steal, than a … Continue reading I WANT
dispatches from the land of head-cold
Today I feel sad, and I have Too Much Time. Too much time to miss you, to feel out of sorts, to feel alone, to resent people who are different than me. Too much time to think. And I feel ill, just a little. People are sick and I don’t usually get sick, but then … Continue reading dispatches from the land of head-cold
CARROT QUINN 
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