Why do I write?

It’s different every day. Today, for instance, I feel like an entire hive at work within me. Bees have partitioned my bones into their waxy cubicles. Their buzzing is the backdrop rhythm of a city in motion and my thoughts are a sweet elixir on my throat. Writing lets me do this; pour honey from …

Friday

This hour seems truly godless. This dark hour alone, when everyone is asleep or crying through their prayers, and sweating blood isn't a problematic symptom. Everyone's sweating blood now. Get a wipe, get a mask. You're not special in your suffering. This hour seems truly godless. This loud hour when the masses are the murderers. …

When it’s Okay for Dreams to Die: A Journey through “It’s a Wonderful Life”

“It’s a Wonderful Life” remains as relevant as ever even as it comes up on 73 years. Every year when Christmas is well underway, I rewatch it and feel something new, which isn’t something I can say about any other movie. Part of it is me getting older, but I would say most of it's …

Loveliness

A bloom of ladybugs is called a loveliness, I think as a tear streaks across my face like a firework scream in the open, July sky. A loveliness. My mom bought a swarm of them once. Let them loose on a golden chain tree bejeweled with aphids. Turned the right way, those green lice hummed …