Children
The land where we live has become a forested island surrounded by gigantic treeless fields of corn and soybeans. Industrial agriculture...
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Bulletins from the Hermitage
WRITING
- Jul 27
Phonetics Part II: Fricatives
Thus a baby was born into a family unable to breathe freely, a self-conscious bunch that drew their bloodyline through generations and...
- May 11
Phonetics Part I: Plosives
Stop Yesterday here at the Hermitage, all and at once the birds stood still. Little silhouettes on tree branches posed midalight and...
- Mar 24
Melancholy County
Have you seen my father? I know he is living on the earth somewhere, but I have not been in his presence for hundreds of years. I was...
- Mar 14
Blood
i cut my finger this morning red blood born into the world a storm of birds crooked their necks toward the sound of the spaces in between...
- Mar 8
Sightings
I. Walking down the sloping paved entry into the trailer park on the outskirts of my hometown, I scanned the rugged terrain to my right....
- Feb 22
Movie Montage Series: Love Comes at Night
All through the night the storm raged and your eyes looked blankly through the window at me I let you in "Where are the others, the...
- Feb 13
He Who Wears Fingers as a Necklace
Following Starlet's foray into the Realm of Love, she at once became a disciple of Gautama Buddha, and was said to have become an...
- Feb 8
You Are What You Eat
Starlet was born in the woods. This is her subterranean memory, of deep inhalations of rich black dirt, delightful decay, the reachings...
- Feb 3
The Hermitage: Drain Ditch 789
Here at the Hermitage we live just up a small slope from Drain Ditch 789, which once was more enchantingly named the Little Maple River....
- Jan 30
Treat Everyone as an Old Friend
Raccoon. Why do you come here in the night wreaking havok on the bird feeder? Where do you come from, wily raccoon who runs quickly to...
- Jan 27
Ego is Legion
The Beginning: The Shape Shifting of Ancestry To arrive here, on this late date, seems ludicrous, and yet, strangely, as it should be. I...
- Jan 19
Dialect of the Borning
A fairy in the woodland bit my mother one day and simultaneously the trees began to respirate loudly, releasing me with hissing,...
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