NaPoWriMo #10 (04/10/2016)

I want to write like John D’Agata. I want to write like John D’Agata and Annie Dillard and David Shields and Maggie Nelson. I want to write like somebody else. Their essays are my breath, my purpose, my goal. But to get there I must write like myself until I write like them, and then…

NaPoWriMo #9 (04/09/2016)

Survivor’s guilt, a baby blanket used to keep us warm in the indignant foundation of self-reflexive universe. That is the funny thing about guilt. We don’t ever have to take the well-being of others in to consideration to feel guilty. Guilt and shame revolve around the individual feeling it. It is like when people cry…

NAPoWriMo #6 (04/06/2016)

(I apologize for the delay. Life has gotten very busy. I was writing the whole time, but haven’t been posting. I spend the next few days checking up with the posts.)   Allergic     to           accidents We see/hear/taste/smell/touch what we choose to But how often are we glancing                into the empty find         ing       the        every        thing

NaPoWriMo #5 (04/05/2016)

gravelly and tilting to the south we crept out [the] ragged screen door hiding in the locker room during PE suitcase lined stealthily with condoms a plastic baby skeleton that hung from a tree in the front yard, a relic –one design for killing it died, and we woke, shivering under holy baby blankets Hitler…

NaPoWriMo #3 (04/03/2106)

A row of cars facing the street from a dark gravel turn out. One dim light on the side of power generator building. A flock