At night, my daughter whispers of her friends’ vacations to Portugal, Iceland, Barbados.
“How about…Canada?” I whisper back.
I’m still unemployed.
“How about high tea, a ferry ride, just you and me?”
The Escape
Silence That Teaches
I had been reading Haiku for five years before moving to Japan. Bashō, Issa, Buson…their work hovered in my margins like birds outside a window: elegant, distant, beautiful. I read their poems with reverence, but from a certain remove, as one might admire a bonsai in a museum case.
How I Write
The way I tend to write is less about beginning with a clear argument and more about paying attention to small moments until they begin to suggest something larger.
Drawings
The afternoon I was supposed to sign my employment contract, I walked out the company doors, resolved never to return.
Flashing Lights
The lights flashed in the rearview mirror. Red and blue filled every inch of space. I looked over at my roommate, Sonya. We were driving home after a night of partying in Coconut Grove. It was Sonya’s last day in Miami, where we were freshmen at Florida International University.
Conversations with My Mirror
And again and now, I will try and reason with the mirror.