You may be sorry. http://splittinginfinitives.blogspot.com
If I were to start writing, perhaps anonymously, perhaps not, in a new space, one perhaps private, perhaps not, would you come along for the ride? Talk to me, if there are a few of you still checking back here now and again.
This blog feels done. (I keep forgetting that it’s not 2007 anymore.) A friend of mine, intending to encourage me, wrote this: “I love that you’re still blogging!” Then another friend: “You’ve reminded me about poetry. Why did I stop reading poetry, anyway?” And like a balloon I deflated, in the slow, steady way of […]
To the wilderness you were born; To the wilderness you shall return. Opening eyes you saw not light, nor shadow, But the blossoming intricacy of a trunk Bifurcating into branch, then twig, even that The home to some creature small and great. What you first heard was not a mama’s hush But the whisperings of […]
“You’re such a squeam,” my mother snarls. I can’t help but laugh at this, and her anger deflates a little. As it should. She is angry because I won’t buy her two cheese bagels. She can’t eat solid food. She will choke on it. I’ve already been reprimanded by the staff for letting her use […]
My teenager would like nothing more than to vote on Tuesday. Of course he is not allowed to vote, and there are good reasons for that, I suppose, my son being the exception that proves the rule. He is a bona fide political junkie who understands more about this election and what rides on it […]
There is a grown-up party downstairs. I am little. These adults — their tinkling laughs, their clinking glasses, their swells of convivial sound — tell me just how small I am. I need my mother right now, but she is one of Them, these party-goers. She doesn’t smell like herself. She doesn’t look like herself. […]