We had sex in the afternoon and then fell asleep, me pressed against you, you snoring, your body like a furnace. I marveled that your skin could feel so hot, that it wasn’t obvious when your clothes were on. I drifted off thinking about sunbeams and dandelions. When we woke, daylight savings time had made … Continue reading sandcastles
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
the sugar-cone ghost and the freedom of not having possesions
I’m moving. I’m leaving my one-bedroom apartment (which was never really mine, which was, in retrospect, just a beautiful, palatial hole in which to dump wheelbarrow-loads of money that I will never see again) and I’m moving into a sixteen-foot travel trailer that I bought off the internet. I am poor again, and also recently … Continue reading the sugar-cone ghost and the freedom of not having possesions
how to know what is important
Sometimes, not matter how tired I am, I cannot make myself go to bed. I will do any number of meaningless, unnecessary tasks to avoid it- stare at myself in the mirror, walk back and forth, straightening things in my obsessively tidy apartment, look at blogs on my phone that have not been updated in … Continue reading how to know what is important
my favorites
New year’s resolution
New year’s eve there was no moon. We left the campground, our little cabins with the K’s on everything and the logs painted brown and walked through the forest, the ghostly pines (so different than a little further inland) and the leafless trees all covered over in what would turn out in the morning to … Continue reading New year’s resolution
Solstice
I Suddenly there were clementines on the tundra, although no-one could say from where they had come. The small round oranges were obscene against the flat bright landscape, the white-dusted ground broken only by the pockmarks of frozen lakes. Nina Simone (That’s what her parents had named her- her parents, who had met in Budapest) … Continue reading Solstice
Squat
The animal hides on the bed never get made- there are blankets over the windows. In the kitchen, eight different kinds of hot sauce. The flash from the police officer’s camera is overly intimate and, in retrospect, beautiful- the crumbling dirt floor of the basement, the toe of his boot cap, shining and black, in … Continue reading Squat
The Tree
Dear Reader! Another nice story for you. Fiction. Now without the angry rant. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ---------------------------The Tree------------------------------------------------------------ --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Madeline finds the tree on a Wednesday. She is walking. The tree, its trunk massive, its bark like elephant skin, is on Gantenbien and Shaver. The tree is behind a small board fence, and its limbs extend out … Continue reading The Tree
Ruby
The day that Jules’ dog died, he drove his truck down to the Oconee river and parked it in the poplar trees along to the bank. It was springtime, and the grass was dotted with white daises and small yellow flowers whose names he did not know. The vet had given Jules a small plastic … Continue reading Ruby
CARROT QUINN 
You must be logged in to post a comment.