Carson Masterson on Unsplash


After a meeting with staff about shipments of art for a group show, I change into a comfortable skirt and t-shirt and cut across the museum campus where the groundskeepers are meticulous. They are in their green jumpsuits clipping hedges and riding mowers and cutting back what summer and the sprinklers have brought on. Collected everywhere are shallow puddles and the cool water seeps through my tennis shoes.

I get my hair cut and refuse to think about it. I can feel where my hair is not. …


愚木混株 Cdd20 from Pixabay

At the retreat, we learn how to let go of the future.

A balloon floats toward a mountain named after the blood of Christ which looks upon us.

You are not enjoying life when you are thinking about life, the guru says.

Stop watching words!

Everything the guru says we take to heart. Mine’s patched up.

In other parts of the world, houses empty.
Forests wake up.

We have breakfast.
We work hard. We shower.
At certain times we have access to our phones

One night, William texts, It’s coming together well.

I don't know what it is, but I’m…

In the afternoon, you can dream

Benn McGuinness on Unsplash

Bena and I got high and went out into the city lapping up one another’s energy after, fresh feelings of happiness like fingers flipping through vinyl records or diving into basins of candy. We were serious about walking everywhere we could, and I brought along my Minolta. We’d spied and laughed through two neighborhoods before Bena got bored and ambled off in the direction of a taco stand. Bye-bye, Bena. See ya, W. B.

I ate falafel in the fourth neighborhood. Wearing a mask feels so good, we’re doing it to live! …

It Felt So Good

Random House

You never know what’s going to leave an impression on you.

When I lived out West I worked for a spell at a bookshop where the staff was encouraged to read. As long as we weren’t busy and all side work for the day was completed, we could read to our heart’s content.

On more than one occasion I picked up a book called Do the Windows Open?

A Poem

Tucker Good

But it could have been anywhere
You made me a wax tablet
Because that’s how you are
With or without, intention didn’t matter
Without thinking one could be, one was
The same as the hot rip through
The firmament
Like the day you took your first
Ah oh ee
Honeycombs melted and children
Sang hymns
Fast ones, dedicated
Proofs that you added up
I did some reasonable long-haired flavored math
And counted among the knowable a head of silver
The reflections, giving, splattered the surroundings
In the then and in the counting I rose to twenty-one
Before the reflections stopped and nuzzled to sleep
While you lead everyone out into the green valleys


Piyapong Saydaung on Pixabay

a toast for house spaghetti dinner with a necktie, fresh overcoat, potted plant

my body and my clothes up in the street under five-minute fall falling rain

the news knocking, vegetables, and fruit, your phone calling me by name

tonight’s cars, a Volvo, a Trans Am, they’re an all-surrounding everywhere

asking for permission and I’m faithful, Israel, I’m parting my wet hair

I’m parting my wet hair, reaching backward, sailing forward I’ll sit down

and write it in a letter, to you the sweet, perspiring until there, on my face

you wearing shoes from amour and company a banister growing…


Nathan Nichols on Unsplash

the sky, when you laughed, blew
out a water boy carrying
the crown,
Gatorade flowed
and it was good, God said
another wasn’t ever happening
and wasn’t that something fine
in existence, no one tried to outdo
themselves they taught the world
and you
you can feel the waking hour
you, a commodore, how you
on the way to goal, hurrah to posey
sport aficionados
give them blossoms give them blossoms
we kissed them too,
behind every little peanut and alongside the mouse
we sent to college, teach us
about collage, you see
we believe in you in the dictionary,
definitions for example take
your older brother he’s
a hippie, a…

The Transits of Time, Image, and Sound

Andy Art on Unsplash

Once I was engaged to a remarkable person, a woman I’d never known until the day we met at her house, where she lived with her wife. The party happened on a Saturday night. I wore a nice shirt and a tie. It had snowed the week before but now the snow was gone. There were cocktails at the party, but everyone had beer. Nothing tastes better in cold weather than a colder beer. She said, How are you? when I walked in with our mutual friends. Later, she asked me, What are you reading? She said Abigail tells me…

Wolfie Bain

Artist & Writer

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