Two plus

Today I met Sarah. Sarah talks with the ease of someone twice her age. Her eyes are brown. She likes to emphasize her points with a little gesture. She talks with a frank voice. Her hair curls in ringlets hanging like shower curtains over both sides of her face. She stays late all the time. In class Sarah props her pencil up to rest her … Continue reading Two plus

Strong like twisting oak branches in late summer haze   your arms that bubbles to the surface Slowly like spheres of gas      your humor escapes from sticky tar melting under the summer sun then Quickly like water droplets dancing on a hot skillet Rain hanging like sheets in a gray Clamoring line your legs two blocks down we run in the sun wet … Continue reading

Ten

10 days till France and I’m rearing my head and trying to escape this little train. Just suddenly, Houston seems so sweet, so beautiful. This weekend the cool dry September weather we call “fall” arrived on the heels of a thunderstorm. The weather that I’ve missed for the past 4 years in stuffy Los Angeles. And now I remember why my response was always “autumn” … Continue reading Ten

Sirius (Labor Day, Padre Island)

By whispering waves with muted breaths we point out the night sky constellations to each other. Rare splendors for big-city folk. Under the comforting embrace of the firmament I realize we formed our own little constellation of black heads against the gray sand. A cluster of 3: my mom, my dad, and my little sister followed by a lone star: me. Like the Dog Star … Continue reading Sirius (Labor Day, Padre Island)

Little Pillows of Sweat (Houston)

I like the heat. The way it clamps around your face and the insides of your knees like a magician’s black velveted gloved hand on the saw he uses to cut the woman in half. It’s dense like the last layer of birthday cake, slicked down, glistening with poisonous icing. Confectioner’s sugar crystals bound up into a paste so smooth the cake can’t breath. It … Continue reading Little Pillows of Sweat (Houston)