Hammer Time
Corrine's high school drama club participates in the state's one act play festival this March and I've been building the set for their production. Recently, I brought the hammer down onto my hand."Fucking cock-sucking whore!" I shouted and then threw the hammer across the stage and into the wings."Really, Dad?" Griffin asked me. I had forgotten he was with me."What?!""You had to throw the hammer?"
Lactose Insolence
Gabrielle insists...
what giving creature is this
something like a whispered song
mere touch
her meaning is like the texture of the perfect
my mother has escaped love
that love is no mere enthusiasm
savannah
how comes the muse to the latched-upon artist
swing
she wears galaxies of memorabilia
Saturday, January 24, 2015
Thursday, January 15, 2015
The Kemsen Crush
My 6-year-old son is in love with my teacher.
I mean his teacher.
Who used to be mine.
No, I don't mean she used to be mine. Not mine mine in the leather-jacket-wearing, hickie from Kenickie kind of way. I mean she used to be my teacher.
But I used to wish her to be mine in that other way.
Well, no. I don't mean I'd wished she'd given me hickies. I don't think I knew what a hickie even was when I was 13. I just mean she was my first teacher...
Thursday, January 8, 2015
It was the best of dimes....
I paid for three gallons of gas the other day.
In dimes.
I don't know what the most humiliating part of that day was, to be completely frank with you. Was it the actual act of handing the woman behind the counter 80 dimes? Or was it the fact that we even had 80 dimes in our house? Or how about the sphincter-tightening ride into town hoping to not run out of gas? Or the fear of running into someone at the gas station with whom I graduated high...