I became fascinated by Alice Temple upon first seeing her back. It was last summer in L.A. at a rock ‘n roll photograph exhibit when I saw a short mussed haired woman facing away from the camera, her back bare except for a large skull tattoo. Maybe it was the hair or the ink or […]Read more "Alice’s Back"
When I was in high school, I was unsuccessful at memorizing Allen Ginsberg’s “Howl.” I tried to commit the first part of the poem, about seven minutes worth of speaking, to memory and recite it as part of speech competition. I gave up eventually, unable to fully comprehend what the poet was talking about. I didn’t have […]Read more "Finding Diane di Prima on a posterboard"
to live in this world you must be able to do three things to love what is mortal; to hold it against your bones knowing your own life depends on it; and, when the time comes to let it go, to let it go ― Mary Oliver Kevin’s family had a summer house they called their […]Read more "The Cabin in the Woods"
I can’t remember the last time I rode a bike that wasn’t in spin class. I do have a distinct memory, however, of being chased around my neighborhood by a yappy dog nipping at my heels as I tried to get away from my imminent death by ankle biting when I was no older than […]Read more "Built for Two"
When I was in college, I had a really terrible magazine writing teacher. She was hired as a “working professional,” so while she might have been a successful writer for independently-run arts and culture quarterlies, her idea of teaching was busy work and aligning ourselves with her ways of thinking (“Harper’s Bazaar is the bane of […]Read more "Notes on Camp"
My name is missing. It’s missing on purpose. The person who penned this obituary decided to exclude my existence. Two of my wife’s family members died recently: Her 108-year-old great grandmother, and her grandfather, both on her maternal side. Their obituaries ran a month apart in the same small town Midwestern paper, both listing many […]Read more "Erasure"
I’ve never been to Boston, but I had planned on living there. My senior year of high school, Berklee College of Music was my post-graduation ideal. I bookmarked their homepage on my AOL account and would frequently revisit the same information and photos of the compact and neat dorm rooms, complete with a guitar stand […]Read more "The Big City"
The first time I went to a lesbian bar, I already had a girlfriend, so I wasn’t really looking to find a date. It was early on weeknight so it was pretty dead, and we sat at a two-top in the corner by the windows overlooking a quiet Chicago North side neighborhood. We lived on […]Read more "Where the Girls Used to Be"
My grandma would have been 88 on St. Patrick’s Day. She passed the summer before last, just before I moved to Portland. I’d said goodbye to her while she was still in the hospital, waiting to go home where my mom and hospice nurses her would tend to her for her final month. The last time […]Read more "The Noble Saint"
I was in love with Jayme and she didn’t know it. How could she? I didn’t know it. She had an album with two slightly androgynous dark haired women on the cover, and when she put it on, their voices were what I’d hoped for. Slight and mezzo soprano with an air of angst, they […]Read more "Are You Ten Years Ago?"