The Long Sigh
The sliced watermelon left under a flash rain by fleeing picnickers had discarded its seeds through its inner swell and turned the pink of my grandmothers lips. And just as soon the pour started, it stopped. Similarly with my mother, there were stories about the color of her lips. dusk—they would begin—of an unseasonably warm winter day where the crimson would push through the ensuing...
I. In the arena of unseen lines, the big ones say nation, atmospheric pressure, and today: a course to Pluto nine years long. In my glass, a meniscus. The ice raising it by swirls from what I can see. I know there’s more to it than that though I’ve only looked it up now: enthalpy of fusion, kilojoules, molecular disorder (liquid) and order (ice). My parents’ breakfasting sport was a...
a to b
Space Phenomenon Imitates Art in Universe’s version of van Gogh Painting” hubblesite image title 20,000 light years is far and, V838, not as descriptive as the universe painting. so, there it is. nasa’s captionist implies the dutch painter as preexisting V838 Monocerotis, the eight hundred thirty eighth variable star of Monoceros. from what i’ve just read, it’s...
i was reading about a boy whose bleeding lip from sibling fisticuffs capitalized the ‘t’ in ‘things’ while still his brother tries to pound him with dad looking on. three times the buzzer rings before i finish the paragraph. the cops are downstairs. the second floor tenant’s attempts at trepanation with minor threat ripples throughout the building with bass like the...
“across the indian ocean, watchful sri lankans remain suspicious of the sea.” bbc photo caption, 3.29.05 all the fire escape plans needed to be redone for tornado today. i drew squares in which twelve residents and three employees will cluster. limbs a fuss of roots in the cubed inclement weather refuge, they’ll wonder how a bathroom could stand against a 200 mile an hour...
first: a repository
moving the old writing blog to here. then, new writings if i can stomach it.