False Dawn

Possum

Beth — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 20:40:18 +0000

Plain woman bald from chemo staring like the psycho in Taxi. You talkin’ to me? She wields it with power; knows you don’t know where to look; perceives your fear. The possum’s naked face in the car headlights rattles me.

Despite

Beth — Sat, 10 Dec 2011 20:37:33 +0000

If I can’t write until everything is perfect, in order, all taken care of and accounted for, then I can’t write.

Return

Beth — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 19:05:43 +0000

He goes out into the night of morning, onto the winding hill country roads full of leaping deer and wandering cattle. They know nothing of him coming back to me.

Sweat

Beth — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 18:53:34 +0000

Sweat so thick it feels like warm, copious saliva; like I’ve been swallowed by a large, hungry God or like I am swimming in some birth canal.

Gratuitous

Beth — Sat, 01 Jan 2011 16:48:57 +0000

The smoked turkey legs came 2 to a package ;too much for only 1 pot of black-eyes peas & 1 pot of collards. She used both; felt rich, ashamed.

Hard frost

Beth — Tue, 07 Dec 2010 12:12:59 +0000

The big heater compressor groans, brays, and pants outside my study window. Steam lands on icy grass.

No Talking on “Happiness”

Beth — Sat, 20 Nov 2010 12:39:03 +0000

A Japanese man came to me in a dream last night. He said, “Come. I want to show you a place where dreams of the mind come true.”

In this dream, I walked through tall walls made of finely made vertical strips of silky gold cloth. I walked through walls and laughed.

An entire floor, nicknamed “Happiness,” was a silent retreat. “Remember,” a passerby said to me, finger on lips, “no talking on Happiness.”

Dawn

Beth — Tue, 02 Nov 2010 11:30:53 +0000

Morning writing in a circle of light. A spotted fawn tiptoes in the clearing outside the window. Joy.

Marrow

Beth — Tue, 19 Oct 2010 11:06:39 +0000

Even when you have picked over the family bones for every scrap of meat, every scent like a starving hound, something in the marrow waits to tell you more.

Light Show for Insomniacs

Beth — Mon, 09 Aug 2010 12:14:16 +0000

The 2:30 a.m. picture window view of lightning rippling like northern lights looks like a florescent bulb going bad. I think I see a tiny sign between the flashes. It looks like the one Harry Haller* saw. I haven’t thought of this in 40 years. Why the connection now?