ExploreHeartache & Loss
By the time I looked over my shoulder, the sun had already fallen.
We watched our father chuck her boom box out the bedroom window.
I was enraged at being alone on the outside of all that love and lust.
The distant past returned—what part of it, he could not decide.
I shoved them one by one, easy as pie yet with care, just shy of mercy.
Certainly the ushers who pass the baskets know me as a miser.
The preacher looked me in the eye. He laid his hand on my chest.
I want to focus on bears. On knowing them, and on what they need.
Passions played among the orchids and through cherish and reveal.
I can see on him how things are changing for and against us.
My daughter’s favorite game is Holocaust. She’s quite inventive.
Streetlights throw the blinds against the ceiling. It’s 7:00 p.m.
Advance planning was never Hank’s strong suit, he had to leave her.
For all the stories they’d concocted, the real one electrified them.
She did not leave him for the sailor. So why should he be angry?
All over the planet people try to end pain: striptease, bee stings.
I grabbed him by the face and told him life only comes to a person once.
The allure of Mardi Gras is to feel this way: unseen and unseeable.
A boy watching another boy lucky gets an ache. That is a small motor.
We never really had what might be considered a normal conversation.
I needed a paycheck a lot more than I needed to be kissed.
I was convinced she’d be back in the morning, like the sun.
I’ll see you on the sea, they say, but then they float past on a raft
He tuned the future backward as he left the ringing water to reclaim me.
What if my mother could have been happy if I hadn’t been born?
He said he had come back to the prison because it was home.
The author reflects on a soldier‘s experience, in just six words.
Here is my aphorism of the day: Happy people are monogamous.
From the flight deck Gray could see home, wherever that might be.
The towns died as quickly as a single house, a house like ours, lit gold within.