I found a message in a bottle. The bottle was buried, only the cork visible, so I had to dig it out, wondering how it had come so far inland. But then, who says every bottle with a message has to be thrown into an ocean? The message itself was indecipherable. That there is a [...]
Posts Tagged ‘language’
I haven’t been able to write. I have ideas, ideas are never the problem. Rather, ideas are exactly the problem: they keep me awake at night, sabotage any attempt to capture them, turn against me on the page. So I printed my old stories and cut them into pieces. I shuffled the small ones and [...]
I am begging you to intervene. And no, I am not naïve. I know how you are. You take me for some blank mute thing that just waits for a painter to grace my skin with art. I watch you gallery visitors every day; you all look at me the same. You bourgeoisie, you hipsters, [...]
I met Pound on the bench where I eat lunch, on the plaza that connects my office tower to three others. Nothing on that plaza is accidental other than my encounter with Pound. Pound wore a hoodie that day. No one wears a hoodie in the telecom district–no one who eats lunch on the plaza. [...]
When you are at a loss for words, where do you go? If you could have a hero mechanical animal, who would it be, and do you like your technology sleek or clunky?
I don’t have a plan in the world. I have the wide open sky and a bag of dried mangoes. My last girlfriend called them slices of sunshine. I have kept the phrases my friends and I made up. A teenager is “a case of ginger ale”, empty praise from the human resources director is [...]
As Timothy Green puts it, “Poetry is everywhere… It happens by accident all the time.” The idea behind his Found Poetry Project is to see what happens when you look for those accidents. Maybe a note on your power bill sounds like a haiku, or a message your drunk friend left sounds like free association. [...]
I want to meet you without ever planning to meet, sit beside you on the subway the very moment you decide, the toymaker convention being in town, you must grab a stranger and crash it. This is a wrong stop for both of us, a place we’ve never been. It is no place to remain [...]


