What if someone (let’s say Pee Wee Herman, for kicks) told you that you could travel back to any time and place? I pondered this question for a few minutes and toured just a few of the almost endless possibilities…. Read More ›
Laguna Writers
When Old Bridges Pass
The old bridge runs alongside the new. Like a shadow of my past crossings, it’s a stark reminder that nothing in this world is permanent. Piece by piece, they disassemble the steel, and each morning I glance over my right… Read More ›
I Start Voices in My Head
I hear voices. Audible crumbs that line the zigzagged paths in my head. Loud whispers fold into hushed thoughts, a disconnect bridged by a familiar tone. It builds into a phrase, like a breeze into wind, almost recognizable in a… Read More ›
Taking Stock in Our Kitchen
I’d like to think when Aunt Helen said “if you’re not cooking, get out of the kitchen,” a special exclusion applied to me. Me. I wasn’t even tall enough to see down into the treasured stockpot filled with my Nonni’s… Read More ›
Race to More of Me
I tell myself it’s not a race towards a jolly laugh, yet I feel the pace quicken. Call it the mid-thirties, or maybe it’s just that choices have presented themselves. Whether it’s my youth that disappears with each step or… Read More ›
Seen Your Time (A Poem)
Seen Your Time One thread at a time Taught between your fingers it lingers to the ground Tight where you pull time from under me It’s the laugh of all laughs In mirrors the laughs of your laugh Directed at… Read More ›
Seasons Please
the seasons ceased to change the moment the ripples in your heart were swallowed by the sea you and I in the past tense to say we’d from the weeds in my veins where embers used to bleed this cannot… Read More ›
California One (A Short Story)
“There’s at least fifty ways to forgive your mother,” said Stitches, “and I bet you haven’t tried a single one of them.” Below them, the number one bus released air and lowered its door to the curb. Charlie let gravity… Read More ›
The Mower in the Window
She danced in the den, swinging from the door to the open window. She protected our secret through whatever addiction served her. The glare behind her loose curls told me everything. I walked past her, and wondered if I whispered:… Read More ›
It’s Too Late to Say It’s Never Too Late
It was the pause between her haunted words that terrified me. Of course, it was her words repeated to the others that terrified them. Not because it was something she said, or the days between her visits, but because… Read More ›
eternal Domnation 