Last night, in my van, after work, the rain wouldn’t stop falling. Flooding! Endless! Dark and dampening rain! And the rear doors on my van don’t seal properly, it was in an accident, the water drips down on my collection of books- What We Leave Behind, Mrs. Dalloway, Shadows on the Koyukuk. I sat watching … Continue reading rain
solitude
What it feels like to be stoned
Jack was at a party in the woods, and there was no-one in the whole world that she wanted to talk to. The sky was a bright, billowy grey, and it rested like a solid thing, tiredly glowing, on the needley tops of the spruce trees. Before her was a picnic table and a blackened … Continue reading What it feels like to be stoned
Fairbanks
I live in a van, in a weedy lot, for now, a sort of junkyard where willows grow from the engines of old cars. I’ve pulled one of the seats from my van and set it up on a wooden flatbed trailer that catches the light. It’s my recliner, the place where I sit in … Continue reading Fairbanks
telephone
I talked to my friend JJ on the telephone today, I broke my long abstinence from the telephone and what came rushing in was the voice of a real live human friend, from far away, not through the e-mail or the g-mail “chat”, but a real tempered human voice for laughing and having things in … Continue reading telephone
CARROT QUINN 