On [trying to] write a memoir during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Last week or maybe yesterday, my writing teacher asked for a paragraph on what it is like to write personal essays while quarantined at home. Four pages and a glass of iced Effen blood orange vodka later, this is what I sent her. Noting after the fact the "a paragraph" stipulation. She graciously accepted my … Continue reading On [trying to] write a memoir during the COVID-19 pandemic.

Nostalgia Table. (draft)

Thanksgiving will be small this year but not infelicitous. Which is to say there will be three of us seated at the table, not the double-digit chair count of my childhood or some of the years during my time as a Wife. Though several others were invited, they've all found holiday homes for the day … Continue reading Nostalgia Table. (draft)

Hericane. [sic]

In pre-dawn stillThe wind comes once everyThree minutes, bellowing deep in the treesSlow, picks up speed, then stops. dark ghost trainwinds down, swapping arrivers fordepartersWhose gossamer trench coating shuffle wetLeaves adhere, our front window stained Chapel glass between worlds. Warm and dry,tamed storming, unpredictable rowdyTimetables of bluster and agenda, measures of syncopated nature, theruthless spiced … Continue reading Hericane. [sic]