Analog
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Commonplace Book – 2025
“People were nice if you found the right ones. The trouble was there were so many of the wrong ones.”
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Lowell Buried
What a garbage year it’s been! Shockingly (at least to me, given how endless and abbreviated it has managed to feel all at once), we’re already well past the halfway point.
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August, 2024
Claiming I’m “still alive” would feel like an overstatement, but my being living or dead doesn’t have anything to do with why I haven’t posted here in a while.
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September 2023
If we were not so single-minded/ about keeping our lives moving,/ and for once could do nothing,/ perhaps a huge silence/ might interrupt this sadness/ of never understanding ourselves/ and of threatening ourselves with/ death
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August 2023
The crickets sang in the grasses. They sang the song of summer’s ending, a sad, monotonous song. “Summer is over and gone,” they sang. “Over and gone, over and gone. Summer is dying, dying.” The crickets felt it was their duty to warn everybody that summertime cannot last forever. Even on the most beautiful days…
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July 2023
The weather was fine. They took away his teeth, white & helpful; bothered his backhand; halved his green hair. They blew out his loves, his interests. ‘Underneath,’ (they called in iron voices) ‘understand, is nothing. So there.’
Not Enough Time 