Tag Archives: outdoors

What do you do

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Hey.
It was nice chatting with you this evening.
Just want to let you know it’s raining, and you were right — I should have brought my umbrella.
No big deal that you couldn’t talk about your job.
Sorry if I pushed.
I work for a Japanese company sounded weird.
“I work for a Japanese Company.”
What are you Godzilla?
That’s not funny. I’m sorry. Continue reading What do you do

(But) We don’t live in the desert

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Squalor and lemons might oust our position,
Forcing our pilgrimage to the outside world:
From routines, and whiskey: Away,
From lamps, and soda’s: Away,
From weddings, and Wal-Mart’s: Away.

Swirling, often accompanied by purple winds;
Bending our forms sashaying through sand,
We’d disappear and live off Continue reading (But) We don’t live in the desert

Frisco, and the Dead Duck

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I had a dog in high school that was amazing at three things: hunting, swimming, and running away. This dog, you come home from school, you’re tired, you just want to open your door and you open it, and his little devil brown snout wedges itself between the door way and gone. He’s gone, and you won’t see him for thirty minutes, and you can’t be like, “Fuck you, fucking Continue reading Frisco, and the Dead Duck

She’s Still Alive

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My mother used to embarrass my brother and I when we were kids—just by being loud, or provocative, or just being herself. When she passed away, my brother was really broken up about it—we were sitting on the couch, in our house in Florida. We were on the back patio, which was really beautiful—enclosed with french doors—that looked out onto the ficus tree and lake: (which had alligators, Continue reading She’s Still Alive

The One That Got Away

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I wonder if it happens to you, M. 

I wonder what would have happened if you’d have taken that train with me to Montauk.

We were better off getting drunk outside Tompkins square park in the good loving sun of July. Those boots you put on were the Pallisadoes. They should have been your birthright. Boots for feet. Whose were they? You were in flip flops and a short black skirt when I picked you up, and three gin and tonics later you were circling the column in those long brown that covered your sweet best.

You slapped Continue reading The One That Got Away