Transparency
She didn’t need to study the spell in a grimoire, or learn it from a back-alley conjurer… she had it in herself already, and she found it easily enough.
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The Trocadero Theater
For most of my formative years, I only knew the whole garden called Philadelphia by one single flower: the block of Arch Street between 10th and 11th. This was the location of the Trocadero theater, iconic Philly punk venue, and a sacred landmark in the little part of forever that I’ve tended.
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The Spoon River Anthology: William Goode
I’ve just finished the Spoon River Anthology, by Edgar Lee Masters. Here is a brief reflection on that journey, and a call-out to one of my favorites in the collection, the poem of William Goode — he who seemed “to go this way and that way, aimlessly.”
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On the Very Idea of Permanence
There is nothing like going through your old Internet stuff to trigger some contemplation about impermanence… and maybe also some theories on the nature of the universe as artifact, held together by the Gorilla Glue of fate.
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Poetry and Shameless Obscurity
Poetry is shameless. Poetry is obscure. Poetry is fine with this.
Perhaps poetry is *pretentious,* but please don’t call it that. That framing feels unfair, somehow.
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To maintain this ecstasy
If you are reading this, and you are not just a future version of me doing some navel-gazing, then thank you for taking a moment. It is for me, but it is also for you.